Memory Loss
by Pipeline
Summary: Draco hears about the DA and asks Harry to teach him. When Harry consents his entire life starts to change. Then Draco loses his memory.. A stranger from the future asks their help. CH.54: To help James, they summon the ghost of Tom to get some answers.
1. Once upon a time

**Memory Loss**

**Rating:** PG-15/R  
**Pairing:** H/D  
**Disclaimer:** All the characters and the settings belong to J.K. Rowling, I just came up with a plot for my own little story... ;)  
Exception: The character Piper is all my creation.  
**Disclaimer II:** The nickname "Dracums" was made up by my dear friend Golden, therefore it belongs to her. I have her permission to use it.

**A/N:**For a while now I have been writing a long HP-fanfic at another writer's forum, and I have now decided to publish it here as well. Since it is so long, I have divided it into several shorter series - "Memory Loss" being the first of them. This was actually my first "real" attempt at writing slash, so go easy on it, OK? This entire HP-fic is my evolution as a slash writer, and you can actually see a huge difference between these first chapters and my more recent ones. (It is still in the writing, by the way...) If people like it I will publish more, because I have many, many more chapters in store... :) Enjoy, and please, review as well.

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**Once upon a time...**

Before Harry Potter got his letter from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and learnt that he was a wizard, there were three people he hated passionately; his uncle Vernon, his aunt Petunia, and his cousin Dudley.

They were the only family he had or had ever known, but they all treated him worse than excrement.

For ten intolerable years he had suffered in their care, playing the part of the house busboy. They saw him as their private servant, not their nephew. He had never thought that he could hate anyone as much as he hated them.

Until he met Draco.

From the very first moment, their very first day at Hogwarts, Harry knew that Draco Malfoy was the worst kind of person. They hated each other's guts, and they were always trying to beat each other at everything and nothing.

Their mutual hatred exceeded everything else.

When Prefect Malfoy lost him his position as a Seeker on the Gryffindor Quidditch team, Harry was beyond mere hatred. They were separated by the thin line of good and dark. Archenemies.

But somewhere along that line, everything changed...


	2. Tripped Up and Hunted Down

**A/N:** Okay, so this all starts during their fifth year at Hogwarts just around the time of the discovery of the DA. I don't have time to publish that much more today (all these first chapters need a serious face-lift before I can put them up here), but I will update as soon as possible. That's a promise. :) /paipu-chan.

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**Tripped Up and Hunted Down**

Harry Potter rose from his chair at the same time as his classmates, daring a fleeting glance at the Ravenclaws. How many of them knew? All throughout class, they had taken turns at staring at him as if he was some sort of freak show.

Well, that might be because of all the lies that were still being spread about him through the _Prophet_, or because of the Minister for Magic's determination to constantly punishing him and trying to get him expelled, or because of the open war between him and Professor Umbridge, or simply because it was easy to blame all the new rules and regulations on him.

All those suggestions were far better than the possibility – and likeliness – that they had all heard about his embarrassing date with Cho in Hogsmeade. They were her house mates, right? They ought to know.

Lunch break was seldom a relief of stress nowadays; Harry had been forced to getting used to the whole school staring at him and whispering about him. They did not even bother to stop when he passed them in the corridor or walked between the long tables in the Great Hall, but instead raised their voices defiantly.

And then there was Malfoy, of course, always trying to take a few points from Gryffindor House while simultaneously seeking out every opportunity to mock and provoke Harry. He thrived on the implications that Harry Potter was a disturbed and possibly dangerous boy, and it certainly gave him many creative ideas...

Harry hated him. If it had not been for the immense efforts that Umbridge put in to keep tabs on him he happily would have punched the lights out of the sneering Malfoy heir. But he could not afford another warning, because the very same second he got expelled from Hogwarts Lord Voldemort would appear to finish what he had started fourteen years ago.

He could not risk that, not when he seemed to be the only one able to keep a tab on Voldemort's activities. And speaking of which, he had another Occlumency lesson with Snape that evening. Wincing, Harry forked around his sausage and mash on the half-empty plate. He had never imagined that his time at Hogwarts would turn into this dreary every-day situation. What he had regarded as his home for over four and a half years had suddenly turned into a prison.

"So, DA meeting tomorrow, eh?"

Harry looked up. Justin Finch-Fletcheley was leaning in over his shoulder, a very bold gesture bearing Umbridge's busy hawkeyes in mind, and a sly grin playing on his lips.

Hermione gasped and dropped her fork. "Justin, use your coin! What do you think that Umbridge will do if she finds out? We will all get expelled!" she hissed accusatory.

Justin raised his hands in a defensive gesture. "No need to get all worked up, Granger! I only asked you for a date!" he said loudly enough for his words to carry to the teachers' table. At first, Hermione went pink and looked as if she would start yelling something else at him, but then she realised that this was only Justin's way of saving their illegal club from being exposed.

"Same place, same time, bring your antidotes," Harry mumbled as Justin made to walk off.

Everyone was watching them drop-jawed. It appeared that none of them could believe that _anyone_ would want to ask Hermione Granger out on a date, which made Harry extremely angry. Sure, she could be a real pain in the arse, but she was also very smart and relaxing to be with. She was a great friend.

The DA meetings were great for everybody, but especially for Harry. For three hours a week he actually felt like people believed him, and that minimal semitrust was more than enough to temporarily lift his spirits and make him forget about Umbridge's madness for a while.

Beeing a teacher actually made him feel important; being able to help people with practical difficulties and later even watch them overcome their mental obstacles and manage the spells they had so recently been unable to do was immensely gratifying and satisfying. He made a difference, and by teaching them everything that he knew about Defense Against the Dark Arts he was giving them a means of protection against Voldemort and his Death Eaters.

That particular evening, though, the mould was brutally broken. As he opened his mouth to welcome them to yet another DA meeting, the door opened behind him. Startled, 27 pairs of eyes instantly turned in the direction of the door. A few of them gasped.

Harry assumed that everyone expected Professor Umbridge to walk through the door, so when a tiny, scrawny creature with huge ears wearing thirty grey woollen hats and socks that did not match entered the Room of Requirement, Harry turned his eyes to heaven and moaned with relief. "Dobby, what are you doing here? We were just..."

"Harry Potter, sir! You must all go immediately! Dobby heard them talk while cleaning and came to warn Harry Potter that she is coming..."

Harry frowned. "Who's coming?"

"Harry Potter has no time to ask questions, sir, she is coming here now, sir!"

No need to ask who was coming anymore. "Umbridge."

The name made all his mates jittery and panicked; they all looked at each other with frightened puppy eyes, muttering anxiously to themselves, wondering what to do. "Well, don't just stand there!" Harry yelled. "Run! Run as fast as you can, but not all in the same direction – we need to protect our interests or we'll all be fried!"

And with those words he turned to the door, trying his best to help all of his mates out of the door before sprinting off himself. Sadly enough he only got about thirty feet before somebody tripped him up. He had no time to catch himself; with a loud _thump!_ he fell hard on the floor, bruising his left elbow bad. When he looked up, he found that a pair of exceptionally cold silver eyes were staring down at him. He clenched his hands. "_You!_"

Malfoy sneered down at him. Then, unexpectedly, he turned in the other direction and yelled, "Here, Professor Umbridge, I got one!"

The burly woman immediately came running out of the shadows. "Which one is it? Which one is it?" she was panting, desperate to get there before the little bugger had time to escape. When she caught sight of Harry still sitting on the floor half dazed she gave a shriek. "Oh, it's him! _It's him!_ I got _him_!"

The laughter that followed would haunt Harry in his sleep for weeks to come, he was sure. Not because she was scary in any way, but because she was so aggrevating that he would be sure to be annoyed by the mere memory of her long after he – or she – had left Hogwarts, whoever left first.

Next thing he knew he had been dragged by an annoyingly self-satisfied Umbridge to Professor Dumbledore's office, and what happened in there both stunned and embarrassed him. Dumbledore had taken the blame for him – now there was no turning back. He had an obligation towards his fellow DA-members – he had made many promises regarding their secret club – but he also had an obligation towards Dumbledore now. He could not let himself make another mistake and get himself expelled from Hogwarts, because that would mean that Dumbledore's sacrifice had been in vain.

Heavy at heart with all the troubles that had come his way, Harry walked back through the corridors towards Gryffindor Tower. It was time to go to bed and try to sleep this misery away. Sure, the pain and the frustration would all be there in the morning, awaiting him like two evil spirits, but at least he would be able to forget them for a few hours. If he could sleep at all. Maybe he would just have another of those Voldemort-related dreams...

"Is it true?"

Harry stopped dead in his tracks and turned towards the familiar, hated voice. Any other day he simply would have ignored his nemesis and walked on, but on this particular night he was in a dangerously self-destructive mood and was practically looking for physical trouble to make up for and _mask_ his mental troubles.

And there was something else that compelled him to turn around... something in the voice that had spoken those three words... something different. It was no longer cold, cruel, and calculating; it was curious, courteous, conversational.

"Excuse me?"

"Is it true?" Draco repeated. He was leaning against the wall, studying Harry with a thoughtful expression on his flawless pale face. His superior posture was the same, all right, but there was something about him that was utterly different...

Harry could not quite put his finger on it, but he had a feeling that the usual hostility between them had faded away the minute Malfoy had uttered that question.

A frown found its way into Harry's face. "Is what true?" He wondered why the Hell Malfoy was straining to have a normal conversation with _him_. What could his hidden agenda be?

Malfoy eyed him from head to toe, as if sizing him up. "The secret Dark Arts club – is it true?" he elaborated, his eyes slightly narrowing. "There are rumours saying that you led some sort of army without Umbridge's knowledge."

Harry flinched involuntarily. It had already gone out? This soon? But he had just left Dumbledore's office! Who could possibly have had the means to spread it that fast? On the other hand, this was Hogwarts; everything top secret was widely known amongst the students. Mostly.

Malfoy interpreted Harry's reaction correctly and a semi-sly, semi-delighted smile cracked his mouth open, stretching from ear to ear. "So it is true, then?" he stated. "That's what I thought. Well, can't say that I expected something like that from you, Potter, but I guess it's just the kind of stunt that you would pull to counteract Umbridge and the Ministry. 'Dumbledore's Army,' eh? Quite a controversal name. Would have reconsidered it, myself. But I'm quite disappointed at myself for not getting that idea first."

Harry felt the rage build up inside him again. "Yeah, I can just imagine what _you_ would do with such an army, Malfoy," he said coldly, and made to walk away.

Malfoy straightened up, and not leaning against the wall anymore he was able to face Harry with his whole height. "Wait. I came here to ask you something."

"Didn't you just?" Harry spat out sarcastically.

He thought he saw the corner of Draco's mouth twitch. "Maybe I did, but that's not what I wanted to ask."

Harry hesitated. Then he sighed with resignation. "Okay, what is it?"

The Slytherin studied him with knitted eyebrows anew. A cold shiver travelled down Harry's spine. He did not like the way Draco was looking at him because it reminded him of the snake in his dream right before it struck out at Mr. Weasley. "I want to ask you a favour," he said at last.

Nothing else could have surprised Harry more. A favour? A Slytherin asking _him_ a favour? And not just any Slytherin, at that! Lucius Malfoy's sole heir, school Prefect, future Death Eater... did he really expect Harry to just say "yes, certainly" and give him a friendly thump on his back? Was he out of his mind?

"You must be kidding me, Malfoy. I would never do you a favour, no matter what it concerned, in my life. You will just have to ask someone else."

He started to walk past the blonde.

"But there is no other to ask. No-one else could help me with this."

"Shame."


	3. The Favour

**The Favour**

The unexpected conversation with the Slytherin continued to haunt him later that night when he tried to sleep. Ron had tried to talk to him twice, but he had pretended to be asleep. He needed time to contemplate the blonde's words.

There had to be more to it. It could not just be that the blonde had decided to be friendly with Harry all of a sudden; he had some kind of dark plan for this. Maybe he should have stayed just a few seconds longer and learnt what kind of favour it was that Malfoy wanted to ask him? At least that piece of information could have given him some peace to rest. But combined with Umbridge's discovery of the DA and Dumbledore's sudden flight from the Ministry, the Malfoy matter kept Harry awake all night.

He fell asleep temporarily when dawn began to spread its first trembling rays of misty light and was awakened again only forty-five minutes later when his room mates rose to prepare themselves for school. Drowsy and exhausted he forced himself out of bed and started to rummage around in his trunk, not sure exactly what he was looking for.

"Hey!" Seamus said. "Watch where you're throwing those socks!"

"Zzrrimat," Harry managed between two yawns.

Seamus frowned. "What?"

"Sorry mate," Harry repeated and retrieved his stray sock.

He continued to rummage around in his trunk with a frown on his face. _This is stupid_, he thought to himself. _What am I looking for, anyway?_ His hand brushed against the Marauder's Map. Harry flinched. Was that it? A strange, anxious feeling sprang from the pit of his stomach.

Making sure that his classmates had already left the dorm to go to breakfast, Harry withdrew the map and said, "I solemnly swear that I'm up to no good." The map over the Hogwarts grounds unfolded itself before his eyes. Bewildered, he stared down at it. _And now what?_ he thought. _Why did I open the map? What is it that I'm searching for?_

To his surprise he found that it was a _someone_ he was searching for, and it did not take long before he found him. A tiny dot with the text _Draco Malfoy_ was currently moving through the dungeons where the Slytherins had their common room and dormitories, heading for the stairs that led directly to the Entrance Hall.

Harry quickly uttered "Mischief managed" and folded the map anew. Next thing he knew he was sprinting down the staircases towards the Entance Hall, but he could not for his life understand why it was so important to talk to Malfoy all of a sudden. He tried to explain it to himself by thinking, "I only want to know what kind of favour it was he wanted to ask me, and nothing else", but that did not quite describe the bewildering feeling that Harry had in the pit of his stomach.

_Am I going nuts?_ he thought as he finally reached the Entrance Hall at a run, panting. _Why the Hell would I want to talk to Malfoy of all people? I must have hit my head before falling asleep this morning._

He must have run very fast because Draco was just emerging through the door from the dungeons, looking disgustingly rested and fresh. His silver blond hair was perfect and his robes did not have a single crease. Harry looked as if he had slept in his for a thousand years and then gone out to play in the mud. His hair did not need mentioning, and for some reason he envied Draco for always being so perfect and calm and collected. It was disgusting.

Draco raised his eyes and spotted Harry at the bottom of the stairs. Harry expected him to put out his chin and say something stupidly acidic and mocking as usual, but to his surprise Draco actually smiled courteously and said, "Morning, Harry." Then he passed him and went straight into the Great Hall to have breakfast.

Harry stared after him, dumbstruck by shock. "Morning Harry"? "Morning _Harry_"? Must have been the first time the blonde had said his first name since that day on the Hogwarts Express, on their very first day at Hogwarts. At least according to Harry's memory.

"Whatcha doing here, mate? Breakfast's in there!" Ron tugged at the sleeve of his robes and, Harry's paralysis notwithstanding, managed to pull his friend into the Great Hall with him.

They sat down in their regular places at the long Gryffindor table, facing the rest of the student body. Harry shot a glance over at the Slytherins. Malfoy was eating his porridge with impressing grace and elegance, and Harry was shocked to find that he actually was a bit disappointed that the blonde was not looking his way.

He forced himself to concentrate on his own plate of porridge, but this morning it did not taste very good. It was like eating plaster or something. Cement, maybe. The noises that his classmates made died away.

"Eeeeruzmainu?"

He blinked sheepishly at Ron. "Excuse me?"

"Where's Hermione?" Ron repeated while surveying the big hall.

Until then, Harry had not even noticed that Hermione had not come down to breakfast yet, but it would not be the first time. She often got lost in her school books or skipped breakfast altogether and went straight to the library to look something "important" up before class.

"Dunno," Harry replied, stuffing his mouth with (to him) stale bread. He did not want to talk just then, and Ron could be a real blabbermouth at breakfast. Fortunately Ron did not feel like chatting either. Maybe because he was too occupied with the mystery of Hermione's whereabouts. It was so obvious that he loved her, and Harry thought it was extremely childish of him not to admit to it even to himself.

"You should tell her, you know," he heard himself saying before he could prevent it. Immediately he put his right hand over his mouth. _Blimey!_

Ron frowned. "Tell who what?"

"Er... nothing, mate. Just forget it, 'kay?"

"Forget wha'? C'mon, 'Arry, tell me. Who should I tell what? C'mon, we're mates! You can't keep me in the dark here if it concerns me!"

Harry realised that he had already said too much. Two choices remained. He could either tell Ron exactly what he thought about his and Hermione's strange relationship or he could keep his big mouth shut and risk Ron getting angry with him.

He was just about to answer when he saw Malfoy rise from his chair at the other end of the Great Hall and forgot all about Ron. Hastily he stood up and almost knocked his chair over. "I... I have to go... er, bathroom... yeah, need to pee before class, yeah..." He started towards the big doors.

Ron looked after him in apparent bafflement. "Oh... okay. Tell me later, then, eh?"

Harry did not know exactly what he was doing, but knew that he had to get ahead of Malfoy; he had to make a trap. _A trap?_ he thought. _What do I mean by that?_ They had Potions with the Slytherins that morning, so Harry knew that Draco was heading for the dungeons and took a shortcut that he had found on the Marauder's Map a few weeks ago. That way he wound up before Draco and could cut off his path.

And the plan worked out fine. As soon as the blonde spotted him a good twenty yards ahead, he called out to him. "Oy, Potter!"

So they were back to surnames again. In a way, Harry found that sad. Yet he stopped and turned towards the Slytherin. He had to strain to keep his face stern and hostile. "What do _you_ want, Malfoy?" he asked, and was mighty impressed with the irritation in his voice. Maybe he would be able to pull this off, anyway.

Malfoy walked up to him before answering. He still had that thoughtful glint in his silver eyes. "Bad night, Potter? You look quite worn down."

Harry snorted. "What would you care? You're probably just seeking out a new opportunity to curse me as always."

Draco slowly, but effectively, shook his head. "No... I don't wish to curse you. Not anymore. You won my respect yesterday, Potter."

Harry raised his eyebrows in amazement, a reaction which he could not prevent or even mildly suppress. Respect? What was he talking about?

Draco laughed at his sheepish expression, but there was no scorn in his voice. "Don't lose your pants over this, Potter, it is quite simple. When I heard about your Dark Arts club I was impressed. I always knew you had a sick compulsion to break the school rules. But I never imagined that you would go against Umbridge quite the way you did by teaching all those kids to defend themselves against dark wizards. I am deeply impressed. How did you pull it off? Because I've heard that you've been having these meetings for several months. Is that correct?"

Harry did not know what to say. He was even more baffled at Malfoy's monologue. He was actually having a normal, friendly conversation with _a Malfoy_! Was that even possible? "I... I... yes, that's correct. Several months, yeah. Mmm-hm." Oh, he could have slapped himself for being such a dimwit! He spoke as if he had nothing but cotton in his head.

Draco laughed anew. "You don't need to be on guard with me anymore, Potter. I won't do anything to hurt you. I never hurt the people I respect – and let me tell you, that is quite a small group. Actually, it only consists of three people. Now, to that favour that I wanted to ask you..." He made a pause, obviously for dramatical effect. "I want you to teach me."

Harry knitted his brows.

The blonde was looking at him with delightful anticipation. His usually cold grey eyes suddenly seemed to beam with warmth and joy, almost like a little child's eyes at Christmas morning.

"T... teach you?"

"Yes. Teach me like you taught all those other kids. I hated it when Umbridge came with all her rules and forbade us to do spells in Defense Against the Dark Arts classes. I mean, how are we supposed to learn how to defend ourselves if we can't try the countercurses?"

That was exactly what Hermione had said to Umbridge's face when the new teacher had informed them about the new rules in Dark Arts class.

"So?" Draco pressed. "Will you teach me? I understand if you're hesitant about it since you've already been caught once – oh, I am sorry about that, by the way, wouldn't have tripped you up if I knew what you did in there – but I want to be taught by the best, and right now that is you, Potter."

Harry did not know what to say. He had a bad feeling about the whole situation, but the friendly tone in Draco's voice was so honest and genuine that he could not have faked it.

But did he really want to teach an assumed would-be Death Eater to defend himself against jinxes and curses? One day they might stand before each other on different sides in the upcoming war against Voldemort, and if Draco knew exactly how to defend himself Harry might be the one to fall.

"I..." Suddenly he noticed something utterly different about Draco's robes. "Where's your badge?" he asked, stunned.

Draco seemed to be taken aback by the unexpected question. Then he understood what Harry meant and looked down at his Hogwarts robes. "Oh, that. Well, I resigned from the Inquisitorial Squad. Didn't want to run Umbridge's shady errands anymore. I'm my own man, you know. And I want to do right what I have done wrong. Harry, please teach me. I will owe you for the rest of our lives."

Something was taking form inside Harry's head. "The rest of our lives, you said?" He thought it over for a few seconds. "Okay," he then said. "I'll teach you. But you better find a safe place to practice and a good excuse to be there – for both you and me – in case someone was to ask you about it. And you better learn a few security spells, too."

The delighted smile was back on Draco's lips. "Will do, Professor Potter. Meet me outside the library tonight, midnight. I'll have everyhting worked out by then. Now, what do you say we start acting like jerks again?"

Harry actually allowed himself to laugh. "Sounds good to me. Can't let them get suspicious, can we?"

So they walked their separate ways, but in both their minds the secret of their budding friendship warmed their hearts and got them both through an otherwise dreary day full of bad news and negative surprises. Harry even greeted Professor Snape with a "Good morning, sir, nice weather, isn't it?" that earned him a solid T on his antidote sample.

But that did not bother him at all.


	4. A Lesson in Friendship

**A/N:** I would just like to say thanks to the reviews, they made me really glad. :) And, yeah, I know it's a bit farfetched, but when I wrote _Memory Loss_ a year ago I didn't really mean for it to get so serious. It was just a fun thing to pass my time with. :) Then it sort of grew into something completely else, and now it's over 300 pages long. Yeah. Personally, I've never liked the beginning of this story, but I figure it's necessary to read that first to understand the background. It doesn't get really good until the beginning of _And so the tables were turned..._, the third series, or maybe the end of _As dark as it gets_, the second series. Anyway, I won't babble any more now... :) Here are a few more chapters, please keep those reviews coming...

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**A Lesson in Friendship**

At midnight he grabbed his Invisibility Cloak and exited through the portrait hole. He wondered how Draco would be able to sneak out with so many guards stalking the corridors at night nowadays. The Umbridge days were no happy days. But when he came to the library he found that Draco was already there, and surprisingly he was all alone. Harry had almost expected him to have brought along the whole Inquisitorial Squad – including Umbridge herself – and that his plea for Harry to teach him Defense Against the Dark Arts had all been a trick to get an excuse to expel him from Hogwarts once and for all. It would not have baffled him if that had been Malfoy's intentions. But to find that he had been honest in his wishes stunned Harry like nothing else had done in his fifteen year long life. Not even a hug from Uncle Vernon would make him this dumbstruck and insecure.

When he had made sure that Draco was really alone he pulled off his Cloak and revealed himself. Malfoy jumped when Harry suddenly appeared before him out of thin air. "Bloody Hell, you scared me!" he hissed in a low voice. "Where'd you come from?"

Harry bit his lip. _Bugger._ He had totally forgotten that no-one but Dumbledore, Ron, Hermione, and himself knew about the Invisibility Cloak. If Malfoy was to tell on him... he would lose the only physical link that he had to his father.

"Er... I..." A deep sigh escaped him. "Oh, what the Hell. I used this." He showed him the Cloak.

Draco's eyes grew to the size of saucers when he saw it. "No way!" he expelled. "An Invisibility Cloak! These are rare, Harry! Where did you get it?" The genuine amazement in Draco's whole appearance confirmed to Harry that he could trust the Slytherin despite their doubtful history. It had not been a mistake to let him in on the secret of the Cloak.

"It was my father's," he now told Draco, and almost felt as if he was confiding in a new best friend. "Dumbledore kept it safe for me until I came to Hogwarts. I've been using it secretly for the past five years."

"I can totally see why!" Draco exclaimed with beaming eyes. "Wow, I wish I had one of these..."

Harry shifted his feet. "So, did you figure it out?" he asked, because he was getting impatient. He still had not gotten much sleep, and he was exhausted.

Draco nodded. "This way."

The blonde led him down to the dungeons and used the Alohomora Spell to open a door hidden in the stone wall. "I found this room two years ago by coincidence," Draco told him as he sealed the door again. "I was furious about your Firebolt and the fact that my father refused to get me one myself, so I just cast various spells around me to get the frustration out of my system. Then all of a sudden I hit the exact right place and accidentally opened this secret door. As you can see no-one has used this room for centuries. It's simply one of those hidden spaces that everyone has forgotten about, and it will be completely safe for us to use. I have already put a repelling spell on the door, so no-one will go near it. We are the only ones accepted. I also found a few useful spells in one of the books that my father gave me for my fourteenth birthday that will make any sound we make inside this room stay in this room; no-one on the outside will be able to hear it."

Harry was impressed. "Wow. You really _have_ thought this through, Malfoy."

There it was again. That smile. "Please, call me Draco. No need for us to be so formal anymore. Or would yourather call me Mr. Malfoy and me to call you Professor Potter?"

Harry laughed. "No, that would feel awkward."

Draco waved his wand and said, "_Silencia_." He explained that it was the Advanced Silencing Spell, which created a soundproof bubble around the area – or the people – that the wizard casting the spell thought of while pronouncing the word.

Harry started to move the dusty old furniture away to make space for them to practice spells. When he was satisfied with the room, he said, "Okay, how much do you know?"

"Well, only the basics – _Expelliarmus_, and so on."

"I see... Maybe we should start with the Stunning Charm. Ever heard of that?"

"I've read about it, but I've never tried to perform it. Didn't seem important enough before."

"Let me tell you, this charm might be the thing that saves your life in a battle against a dark wizard, even if it's a quite easy charm," Harry said in an authoritative voice. He felt good about being the teacher again. "Okay, we'll need a few pillows. Let's see... Here we go. And remember, you don't get to try it on me until you get it right. I brought some bugs for you to try on. When you have learnt to manage the Stunning Charm we can deal with the countercurse."

They spent the following three hours trying different spells and charms, and Harry was surprised to find that he had fun in Draco's company. He was not at all unpleasant or spiteful when you got to know him. He was really a nice guy, and he had a refreshing sense of humour. When it was time to say goodnight and sneak back to their respective dormitories, Draco asked, "Do you think it would be best if we kept acting like we hated each other's guts in front of others? It might be a shock for most people to learn that Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy have kissed and made up, so to speak."

Harry laughed. "Maybe. But let them be shocked, then. I don't think it wise to keep the act up. What if we make one little mistake and the shock is even greater than it would have been if we would have showed our new friendship openly from the beginning?"

The blonde nodded. "You're right. Well, see you tomorrow then, friend."

The pleasant smile on Draco's lips made Harry's heart jump for a fraction of a second. It felt good to have made a new friend. It would be very interesting to see the other students' reactions in the morning.

When he got back to his dorm he tried his best to steal past the furniture and sneak into his bed without a sound, but of course he stumbled over something and made loads of noise. He cursed himself under his breath.

Ron stirred in his bed. "Harry, is that you? Where've you been?"

Harry squirmed out of his trousers. "Teaching Malfoy," he said before he could stop himself.

It was silent a while. "What? Teaching Malfoy?"

"Yeah, he asked me to teach him Defense Against the Dark Arts this morning," Harry went on, deciding that it was best to tell the truth from the beginning. Lying would only make it worse in the end. "We've been practicing for three hours. Man, I'm beat."

"What? You've been teaching Malfoy Defense Against the Dark Arts?" Ron exclaimed. "Are you out of you flippin' mind?"

Harry winced. "Please, Ron, can we take this in the morning? I'm really exhausted." One minute later he fell into a sleep so deep that he did not even dream about Voldemort.


	5. Pre Breakfast Interrogation

**Pre-Breakfast Interrogation**

Ron was waiting angrily beside his bed when he woke up in the morning, obviously anxious to continue their conversation before breakfast. "Is it true what you said last night, or was it just your exhausted and confused brain speaking?" he asked.

Harry yawned and started to dress. "No, it's true. Draco asked me a favour and I decided to do it. Simple as that."

"What? Have you gone mad? Or have you forgotten about who he is all of a sudden?"

"I haven't forgotten who he is, no," Harry assured him, "but he's not the person we thought he was. He's actually really nice once you get to know him. We had fun last night, and I haven't laughed that much for a whole year. I've been kind of dead ever since Cedric was killed, you know. Ron, you should have seen him when he tried to stun the bugs, it was hilarious! I never thought that Draco Malfoy knew so little about Defense Magic..."

He caught a glimpse of the rage that coloured Ron's face an angry red and fell quiet. He had expected this, of course. It would take his friends a long time to accept his newfound friendship with Draco, but eventually they would accept him. At least he hoped they would.

Ron lowered his gaze and slowly shook his head. "I'm disappointed with you, Harry. I thought you were different from Malfoy, even though a lot of things during the past five years have pointed towards you being a Slytherin in your soul, but obviously I was wrong. You're just like him."

And with those words, Ron stalked out of the room.

Harry stared after him, stunned. Whatever he had imagined Ron to say, this had been far from it.


	6. And the Hall Fell Silent

**And the Hall Fell Silent...**

He met Draco in the Entrance Hall. At first he did not know if he should greet him or if he ought to keep his mouth shut, but Draco made the decision for him. "Hiya, Harry! Did you get a good night's sleep? You sure looked like you needed it yesterday..."

"Morning, Draco," Harry said with a faint smile. "I told Ron about our lesson, and he freaked out on me. Which was expected, of course."

"I'm sorry to hear that, mate. But he'll probably come around sooner or later. Care to walk me to breakfast?" he joked and nodded towards the big doors to the Great Hall.

A small group of Hufflepuffs studied them with obvious suspicion.

Harry just smiled. "Certainly," he said. The Great Hall pretty much fell silent when they entered together, and everyone was looking at them as if they could not believe their eyes.

"Whoa, could you imagine?" Draco commented.

"Not really, no. But I guess this is what we'll have to take for a few weeks. Maybe even hatred."

"Are you willing to risk that? To risk your friendship with Ron and Hermione?"

"Yes, because I believe you're a good person, Draco."

Draco smiled with gratitude. "Thanks, Harry. No-one's ever thought that of me before. I'm actually glad I caught you outside the Room of Requirement now. If I hadn't I probably never would have learnt about your teaching."

He went to take a seat at the Slytherin table. Almost immediately his classmates moved away from him. By befriending Harry Potter, Draco had made himself an outcast in his house, but it did not seem to bother him much. He simply waved at Harry and smiled with amusement.

Harry shrugged and took a seat at his own table. Ron ignored him, but Hermione looked at him with caution. Harry guessed that Ron had told her about his nightly meeting with Malfoy and that she wanted to ask him a hundred questions about it, but she did not seem to have the courage to do so.

"Morning," he said and started to wolf down his scrambled eggs.

"Mo-morning," Hermione replied in the same shivery tone of voice that she had used when she'd tried to say Voldemort's name for the first time.

Harry shrugged again and continued to eat his breakfast. He was _starving_!


	7. Out of the Blue

**Out of the Blue**

For the next couple of weeks, he and Draco met every night to heighten Draco's defense against curses, and for each lesson Harry liked him more.

It suddenly became obvious that Draco's harsh exterior had only been an act to protect himself from his housemates and his parents. Sure, for a long time he _had_ thought that the dark way was the right way, but ever since the Triwizard Tournament and Cedric's unfortunate death he had started to question the destiny that his father had decided for him.

Was it really right to use magic simply for shady purposes and personal gain, just to get a little power?

That did not matter to Draco anymore, and Harry was glad to find that his teaching not only turned Draco into a great wizard but also into a great person.

On the night of their seventeenth meeting they did not get much done; they just sat on the huge cushions on the floor and talked and laughed. It was amazing how quickly they had become so close friends, but it gave Harry a very warm and pleasant feeling in the pit of his stomach. He was actually getting happy again, and his dreams had subsided because he was more relaxed nowadays.

Snape's Occlumency lessons had gotten easier to get through now that he had Draco for a mate, and he could actually manage the technique quite well now. He intended to keep up his good work and teach Draco how to master Occlumency later on.

When the clock had passed four in the morning and they were both getting tired and sore in the eyes and it was time to say goodnight, neither of them wanted to leave. "I'm having a great time," Draco told him with a mild smile on his face.

"So am I," Harry agreed.

"I don't want to leave..."

For a second or two a strange but yet familiar glint glittered in Draco's grey eyes, and Harry got the feeling that something crucial was about to happen. He did not register that Draco was slowly and discreetly moving closer to him, suddenly he was just aware that Draco's face was utterly close to his own. But that did not bother him. It did not bother him at all. He was quite okay with him being so close.

Then, out of the blue, Draco kissed him.


	8. The L Word

**A/N:** Okay, first of all I would just like to thank you for all those lovely reviews, they made me smile. :) I'm aware that the chapters are really short, so I will try to publish many at a time instead. I would also like to inform you that I have added a few characters of my own device during the course of this story, and the first one will make her first appearance very shortly.

Hmm, I was thinking about one of those comments... About what happened to the rest of the school in the meantime... Well, I never wrote anything about that, because I figured that it would be superfluous since practically everyone who reads this story has already read the fifth novel. And like I've said before, this wasn't supposed to be so serious, ha ha. It was merely a pastime that grew to something _much_ bigger. And it feels wrong to try and add things now, I mean I wrote the thing a year ago... Ahh, I'm babbling again. Sorry.

I am sorry that it has taken me so long to update this story, but I've been ill for some time and not been able to sit in front of my computer. I will try to be quicker from now on. ;)

* * *

**The L Word**

"I'm sorry, Harry," Draco said when he broke the kiss and noticed that Harry was staring at him in puzzlement. He knew that he should not have done that, he should not have acted on his feelings so soon, all those confusing feelings that had sprung from inside of him during the past few days.

But it had felt so right, the moment had been so perfect, just the two of them there...

It had been impossible to hold back and prevent it from happening. He had lost himself in Harry's beautiful emerald green eyes, and for a few seconds he had imagined seeing some kind of desire in them. That illusion alone had been enough to make Draco lean in for the kiss. But now, when it was too late to take it back, when it had already been done, he regretted it. He was jeopardising their entire friendship, and since Harry was his only real friend he could not afford to lose him. Not now that he had already cast his Malfoy-act aside to become a nice boy. "I shouldn't have done that, I..."

But Draco was given no time to finish his sentence, because Harry pressed his lips against the blonde's and silenced him. Draco could do nothing but to give in. Plunging deep down into an emotional pit he threw his arms around Harry's neck and desperately clung to the Gryffindor as if he feared that he would evaporate into thin air if he did not hold him fast.

Harry opened his mouth and taunted Draco's tongue into a hot, wet dance that was the most wonderful thing that Draco had ever experienced. He wanted it to last forever, but it ended ten or fifteen seconds later when he accidentally bit Harry's tongue.

Harry hastily withdrew. "Ow!" he said, and gently touched the sore spot on the tip of his tongue. His index finger got tainted with bright artery blood.

"Sorry," Draco panted, slightly out of breath after their kissing.

"It's okay, it doesn't even hurt. It was merely a reflex. Sorry."

"Why are you apologising?"

"For breaking the spell," Harry said enigmatically, his emerald eyes glinting mesmerisingly in the gloom of the secret room. They just sat there watching each other for a few minutes; neither of them knew what to say about what had just happened.

Suddenly everything had changed between them. They had gone from being archenemies to being best friends in a matter of a fortnight, and now it seemed that they had reached yet another level in their relationship. It was wonderful – all those emotions that gave him butterflies and made his heart speed like a racing horse – but kind of scary at the same time. However they decided to go on from there one thing was sure; they could never go back to what they had been.

"I don't know if we—" Draco began.

"I think we should—" Harry said at the exact same time.

Blushing, they lowered their gazes and stared down into their laps.

"You go first," Harry offered.

Draco drew a deep breath for comfort. "I just wondered... where do we go on from here? I don't know if we can stay friends and pretend like this never happened. Hell, I don't want to pretend as if it never happened – I loved every second of it. But—"

"I loved every second of it, too," Harry admitted, somewhat embarrassed. "That's what surprises me... I mean, you're a guy, and I... I just never thought of myself as... well, gay..."

"Do you think I thought of myself as gay?" Draco asked and laughed heartily. "I'm a Malfoy, for crying out loud! Pride and power are the two building stones in a true Malfoy, and I go and fall in love with Harry Potter..." His laughter turned from hearty to bitter. The irony of the situation was darkly amusing.

Suddenly Harry grasped Draco's right hand and made him jump. He looked up into the Gryffindor's eyes. "What did you say?"

Draco frowned. Bewildered, he asked, "What?"

"You said that... that you have fallen in love with me. Did you mean it?"

The silence between them was oppressing.

"I think I am, yes," Draco finally confessed. "I think I'm falling in love with you, Harry. Is that a bad thing?"

"I don't know. Anyone else would probably say that we're crazy... that we're playing with fire. Some may even say that we're disgusting. But myself... I can only tell you what I feel, and right now my heart tells me that it's a good thing. A _bloody_ good thing. Because I think I'm falling for you too."

Motivated by happiness Draco gave Harry a quick kiss. But then the smile faded from his face and the reality of their situation was once more crying for his attention. "Must we hide this from everyone now? It might be dangerous for you to announce yourself as Draco Malfoy's boyfriend. I mean, if my father finds out..."

"We'll deal with him when that day comes," Harry hushed, tenderly putting a finger over Draco's lips. "Right now I don't care what anyone else thinks. We're already hated for being friends – it can't get any worse, can it? I think it would be idiotic to pretend as if nothing's happened between us. I mean, how long can we hide it? Eventually we'll break down, and that might mean the end to both of us."

"Yeah, you're right. Blimey, Harry, you scare me sometimes. You're too bloody intelligent for me."

"No, I just talk a load of crap."

They laughed.

Draco looked deeply into Harry's tired eyes, trying to interpret the pattern on his irises. With an unspoken decision made, they lay down on the cushions, Harry with his arms around Draco's chest. Draco sighed happily and closed his eyes. "Don't ever leave me," he pleaded pitiably, snuggling closer into the embrace. He was so warm, so comforting... "Promise me you'll stay forever."

Harry gently kissed his head. "I would never leave you, Draco. I will stay for as long as you want me by your side. And if you ever get into some kind of trouble, I will always be there to help you through it. If you ever change your mind, if you ever say that you don't want me near you anymore... then I will fight for you. I won't ever let you go, baby. Not ever."


	9. An Honest Chance Or A Slap in the Face?

**An Honest Chance Or A Slap in the Face?**

Hermione caught up with Ron on her way to Transfiguration, but she had to run to keep up with his furious pace. His face was red and bloated with anger. He almost looked dangerous. Hermione did not know if she should talk to him at all or if she should just leave him alone.

"Ron, where's Harry?" she asked against better judgement, and hoped he would answer.

Ron grunted, but otherwise there was no indication of a reply.

Hermione almost stumbled over her own feet when she tried to avoid crashing into passing students. "Ron, why are you so angry? Has something happened? Where's Harry? You haven't got in a fight again, have you?"

Suddenly Ron stopped dead and turned around to face her. His nostrils flaring, he said, "You wanna know where Harry is? He's with Draco Malfoy, that's where he is! Haven't he told you? He's still teaching the brat Defense Against the Dark Arts, and he didn't come back last night. He's either converted to the dark side or been killed by Malfoy, and might I say I'm hoping for the latter alternative."

With those words he swirled around and started stalking down the corridor again.

Hermione looked after him with concern. This was getting serious. If Harry did not explain himself soon, his friendship with Ron would probably go down the drain.

* * *

The following morning they allowed themselves to sleep in. Since they had been up practically all night they needed the sleep to function properly, and neither of them felt guilty about missing the morning's lessons. They decided to go to lunch apart, though. They figured that the Great Hall would not be the best place to announce their relationship, and Harry needed to talk to his friends about it before the rumours started to circulate.

He had been very right when he thought that, because Ron seemed to be quite furious with him. Harry could not blame him. He had been spending most of his time with Draco the past two weeks, and now he felt bad for abandoning his best friends.

"Could I speak with you after lunch?" he asked them.

Hermione nodded immediately, still very uncomfortable around him, but Ron only grunted something inaudible. Harry was glad when the redhead at least followed him and Hermione back to the common room. They sat down in the farthest corner to have some privacy. Not many students had returned from lunch yet, and many spent the day outside since the weather was so lovely. Harry did not have to worry about eavesdroppers.

Drawing a deep breath for comfort, he finally said, "There's something that I need to tell you. You've probably noticed how much time I've spent with Draco lately, I don't think anyone has escaped that knowledge... Anyway, Ron I know that you think it's because I've turned into a Slytherin – that I always _was_ a Slytherin – but you're wrong. I would never convert to the dark side, you know that. I have fought Voldemort for so long – oh, come on, don't flinch – I have fought him so long that it would be meaningless to stop and pretend like he doesn't exist. I will keep fighting him until one of us is dead, whether I like it or not. The reason why I've been seeing Draco so much is... well, I've fallen in love with him."

That piece of information actually made Ron lift his gaze and look directly at Harry. The nonplusment was plain to read on his face. Whatever he had imagined Harry saying, this had come far from it.

Hermione knitted her eyebrows. "You have... fallen in love with him?" she echoed. "But he's..."

"A bloke, yeah I know," Harry said, smiling. "Believe me, I was as surprised as you when I realised that's what's happened. I never thought that I would... that I was... gay. But I guess I am, because I really love him, no matter how stupid it is. And it doesn't matter that he's a Malfoy, because he's changed. He doesn't want anything to do with his father anymore, let alone the world that he has been raised in. He wants to leave it all behind now to be with me. Isn't that ironic?"

"Yes, it is," Hermione said numbly. She was biting her lower lip. The anxiety in her eyes flattered him.

He turned to Ron. "Ron, I know what you think of Draco, of what he's done to us during the past five years... but please, try to forget about that. All I ask is for you to give him an honest chance."

"An honest chance, eh? How come _he_ never gave _me_ one?"

"He will now," Harry promised. "Please Ron, this is important to me. I don't want to lose you as a friend – you're my _best_ friend – but I'm not willing to lose Draco either, not even over this."

They continued to talk about the changes that their group would have to go through for another thirty minutes, and when they left for class they left as friends.

* * *

Draco appeared out of nowhere when they finished History of Magic and placed a fleeting kiss on Harry's lips. Harry's classmates shrieked with astonishment and fright. They had hardly even got used to the two of them being friends yet – and now this! Ron made a wry face and turned his face away from the sight, but Hermione actually smiled faintly. "I never thought I would say this," she said, "but you actually look kind of cute together."

"Hello Hermione," Draco said with a polite smile. "Showed them who's smartest today, eh?"

Hermione blushed. "I wouldn't say that I'm..."

"Oh, don't be modest! You know you're intelligent, so don't hide it. There's nothing wrong with knowing when the goblin wars started and why. If there even _is_ a reason why..."

Hermione laughed.

Amazingly the two of them started to talk about history and about transfiguration as if they had been close friends for several years. Harry could not help but smile at the scene. Even Ron seemed to melt somewhat after a while, and when they all went outside into the lovely March afternoon he was cautiously discussing Quidditch with Draco. Apparently they supported the same team.

They went down to the lake and sat in the grass. Draco sat down very close to Harry and took his hand in his. A warm, happy feeling started to spread through him.

"How long have you... I mean, when did you realise that you were in love?" Hermione asked curiously.

"Last night," Draco said.

Ron hastily stood up. "Ugghhh, you haven't...!" he exclaimed with a disgusted look.

"No, we haven't," Harry said, immediately grasping what he was implying. Then he turned to Draco and grinned mischievously. "Yet."

Draco blushed.

The blonde did not look him in the eyes when he asked, "Harry? Can I... Can I lie down and put my head in your lap?"

Harry's heart skipped a beat or two. "Of course you can, baby. Anytime. You don't have to ask."

A smile of gratitude came to Draco's lips. He lay down with his head in Harry's lap and closed his eyes when Harry began to stroke his hair.

Ron left. It was probably a little too much for him to digest just then. Hermione watched them in silence for a long while before saying anything. "You really do love each other, don't you?" she stated.

Harry looked down at Draco. He had fallen asleep. Harry smiled. "Yes, we do. It's insane, but we do."

Hermione stood up. She was smiling, too. "Then it's the only confirmation that I need. You have my blessing."

* * *

**A/N:** Ha ha ha, when I read through this I thought: What the hell was I thinking when I wrote this? Probably nothing at all. Just that Draco and Ron would support the same Quidditch team... yeah, right. Fat chance:D And _as if_ he would accept it so quickly... Dream on, Pipeline. 


	10. Surprise Appearances

**Surprise Appearances**

When they reached the end of the school year, people had begun to accept the new Draco and their relationship. No-one made wry faces when they kissed in the corridors anymore – except for the Slytherins, of course. Draco had even gained a few new friends and said that he was happier than he had ever been in his entire life. Making Draco happy was Harry's main goal in life, and he intended to keep that up for as long as they lived.

After the unfortunate events in the Department of Mysteries, Draco was the one who comforted him and held him when he cried. He never had any problem with crying in Draco's presence, it was never awkward between them. Harry had an immense pain in his heart after Sirius's death, and Draco did everything in his power to take that pain away.

When it was time for them to go home over the summer, Draco promised that he would come to Little Winging to visit Harry for a few weeks – his father would hardly notice that he was gone, especially not since he was under scrutiny by the Ministry of Magic as an accused Death Eater – and that promise soothed Harry more than anything else. By the end of the summer, he would return to the Burrow as always, but the weeks before that would be intolerable.

Uncle Vernon picked him up at King's Cross Station as usual, but this time he was greeted by a lot of angry people who told him to treat Harry nicely; amongst them was Professor Lupin and Mad-Eye Moody. Especially Mad-Eye left an impression with Uncle Vernon, because he never dared to speak another harsh word to Harry again. That made his summer a little more tolerable, but not much so. He still missed Sirius awfully, and he wished that Draco could have been there to hold him when he had trouble sleeping.

Four weeks into the summer, Harry recieved a letter from Draco saying that he could sneak away now. Harry immediately wrote back explaining how Draco would get to Little Winging. His spirits lifted a little the day he got the reply, saying: "I'm coming right away, baby. Please, do wait up for me."

With the first smile since Sirius's death, Harry went downstairs to warn his aunt and uncle about the visitor. "My boyfriend's coming in to visit for a few weeks," he told them. "That's not going to be a problem, is it?"

The look that Uncle Vernon gave him was gold worth. Astonishment. Disbelief. Fear. "Your what, you say?"

"My boyfriend, Draco Malfoy. We've been seeing each other since the beginning of March. He goes to my school, and he's the son of one of the wealthiest wizards walking this earth." _That ought to do as an introduction_, Harry thought gleefully. _Now they won't dare disturb us for the entire stay._

And he was correct. When Draco arrived and politely greeted Harry's relatives they stood frozen in the living room doorway, their eyes a blank terror. Harry enjoyed their fear very much, and it was probably what saved him from going insane over everything that he had experienced in his life.

When his birthday came up, Draco celebrated him like no-one had celebrated him before – he even baked a cake! "Stay in here," he said to Harry, urging him to sit down on his bed, "and don't come downstairs until I call you. I know you'll love it."

It was like a dream. He actually got to spend his sixteenth birthday with someone he loved, and who loved him back. Birthday cards came in from loads of friends, the cards from Hermione, Ron, Hagrid, and Dumbledore being the ones he appreciated and valued most.

Later that night, when they were going to bed, Harry felt better than he had in two whole years. He snuggled up to Draco and breathed the lovely smell of the blonde's hair. "I'm so grateful that I have you," he mumbled affectionately. "I don't know what I'd do without you, Draco."

Draco kissed his cheek. "I don't know what I'd do without you, either. I can't imagine what my life would've been like if you hadn't changed me."

They kissed, their tongues melting together into a hot mass. Draco ran his fingertips over Harry's bare chest, slowly and sensually massaging him. Harry pressed himself ever closer, placing kisses all over Draco's face and working his way down to the blonde's nape. Draco stiffened. Harry snapped playfully at the blonde's nape a few times, then he bit down and elicited a half-suppressed cry of pleasure from Draco.

He knew where this was going, he knew that this was _it_; they were going to make love. But it did not scare him anymore; he felt completely safe with Draco, and he knew that the blonde would never hurt him intentionally. It was so much easier to give in to his urges with that knowledge, and he could not imagine his first time being more perfect than this.

Draco began to tug at Harry's boxers. "_Silencia_... _silencia_..." he was muttering in a low, hoarse voice.

"You don't have your wand," Harry pointed out, making intricate patterns on Draco's chest and stomach with his tongue. He could feel Draco's erection pressing against him, and it encouraged him to be more daring, bolder. He began to pull the blonde's boxers off.

Draco gasped. "I have something else...," he managed to whisper. Another cry of pleasure escaped him when Harry placed himself on top of him. "Harry... ah... they will hear us... _God_..."

Harry bit down on the blonde's neck anew. "So let them listen," he said as he pushed inside of Draco, "they might need a little lesson about love."

He moved slowly, careful not to hurt Draco, and soon he felt as if they had melted together through a strange chemical reaction; he could not tell his body from Draco's anymore; they were one being, one entity. They moved together in synchrony, they worked so perfect together, as if they had been made out of the same mould; as if they were meant for each other. No other feeling had been as strong as this; it filled him up until he exploded.

Simultaneously, Draco cried out louder than before, gripping the sides of Harry's face hard as he bucked beneath him. The blonde's face was the most beautiful thing Harry had ever seen, and he could not take his eyes off him as he gasped for breath. They collapsed into a pile of shuddering flesh, holding each other, panting. Draco gently kissed his forehead. "I love you, Harry. You're wonderful."

"I love you, too."

Two weeks later, they left for the Burrow together. The rest of the summer was spent with many smiles and memorable moments. Hermione was there, as well, and she, Ron, Draco, Harry, and Ginny always found amusing activities to pass their time with.

When the time came for them to return to school, many changes were made. The greatest change of them all became apparent when a week into their sixth year at Hogwarts, Harry and Draco entered the Gryffindor common room together through the portrait hole. Many Gryffindors were surprised to see Draco there, because no-one other than Gryffindors were allowed, and especially the first-years seemed very shocked. But maybe that was because two boys were actually holding hands.

When Ron spotted them he immediately rose from his chair. "What's he doing here?" he asked. He still had some difficulties to fully accept Draco as Harry's boyfriend, and as a friend of his.

Harry and Draco merely grinned at him.

Ron studied them closely for a while, then he noticed what was different. "What's with the colours of your robes, mate?" he inquired Draco.

Harry decided that he should be the one to tell Ron. "Dumbledore agreed to let Draco change houses," he informed him happily. "As of today, Draco is a Gryffindor."

He had severed all bonds with his family, and from then on he would live with Harry. The next summer holidays would be spent in Surrey, and then at the Burrow. Christmas would be spent at the Burrow. And since all the dormitories were taken in Gryffindor Tower, Draco was to share Harry's bed.

They pulled the curtains around the bed each night and cast the Advanced Silencing Spell and a few other charms around it to prevent anyone from disturbing them.

All these changes had been arranged for Draco's own safety, because the student body of Slytherin House had evidently had it with him and beat him to a pulp the first night of school. Luckily Snape had found him before he bled to death. So after a week in the hospital wing, Dumbledore had offically agreed to let Draco change houses. And since there were not any complaints from other Gryffindors about this, things were to be kept as they were. Their sixth year – when spent entirely together – was their best ever.

Everything went on pretty well until one day when a very lively and constantly euphoric character appeared at Hogwarts. They first met her when they were walking down the corridor towards their next lesson. All of a sudden she appeared out of nowhere in a huge cloud of greyish smoke and grabbed Draco's shoulders from behind. "Peek-a-_boooo_!" she yelled and laughed girlishly.

Draco jumped high up into the air of shock and fright and swirled around to face whoever had done it. When he saw who it was he was completely taken aback. "_You_!" he said, staring goggle-eyed at the young woman in front of them.

"Hiya, Drakie-pops!" she said loudly and almost jumped up and down with childish joy. "How is my little teddybear?"

Harry stared from the woman to Draco, and back. "Who the Hell is she?" he asked, and he was not surprised to find that he was jealous. The way this woman was acting she could have been Draco's wife or something.

The expression on Draco's face had swiftly turned from astonished and shocked to sullen and annoyed. "That's my sister," he said darkly, obviously not too happy to see her.

Harry's eyes widened. "Your _sister_?" he expelled. "But I thought you were an only child!"

Draco grunted. "Yeah, so did I."

But now that he mentioned it, Harry noticed that this woman had the same silver blond hair and grey eyes as Draco, the same aristocratic facial features, and it was evident that she could be nothing other than a sibling.

She pouted, pretending to be hurt. "What's this, Drakie-bums? You haven't told him about your big sister? Now I'm _reeeaaally_ disappointed with you."

Draco sighed and turned to Harry. "Harry, this is my older sister Piper," he introduced her. "My father gave up on her a long time ago. She never wanted to embrace his values, and for some reason he's always been afraid of fighting her in a wizard duel. She ought to be twenty-one now." He made a shallow gesture towards Harry. "And this is my boyfriend, Harry Potter."

Piper was drop-jawed. "Harry Potter? Your _boyfriend_? Man, don't tell me you nailed him before me! Wow, Drakie-poops! He's _famous_! Hell, he might even be one of the most skilled wizards in the world!"

Harry blushed involuntarily. "No, I'm not, I've just been lucky..."

"Lucky!" Piper exclaimed and attracted the attention of several Hufflepuff third-years that were just passing them in the corridor. "I would say that my dear brother's the one who's been _lucky_! Man, scoring the very real Harry Potter...! I'm impressed, bro." She gave him a too hard push and almost knocked him over.

Draco, still in a bad mood, muttered, "What are you doing here, anyway?"

"Oh, I forgot to tell you!" Piper made a little queer dance. "I've been hired by Lord Dumblydonkey as your new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher! I heard you had an awful substitute, so I decided to apply for the job. Lucky for me he hired me straight away!" Her joy at this was apparent in her whole appearance. She seemed to be the kind of person who became overjoyed over nothing.

Harry could not help but think that she was a bit strange. "Er... 'Lord Dumblydonkey'" he asked.

"My personal little nickname for him. Was my favourite role model when I went to Hogwarts – amazing what that man can do, I tell you. So tell me... that Snape-bloke still around?"

"Yeah," Harry said. He was a bit intimidated by Draco's sister. She was so utterly different from the witches that he was accustomed to.

"Really? Ooooh, then I absolutely have to tease him a bit! He still got his office in the dungeons?"

"Yeah."

"Wait here, I'll be right back!" She Disapparated with a loud _Pop!_

Harry was stunned. "But I thought you couldn't Apparate or Disapparate within the Hogwarts grounds... Isn't that what Hermione says ten times a day?"

"Yeah, it's right, you can't," Draco said, "but my sister's always been able to find ways to bend the rules. Believe me, during her time at Hogwarts she was a thousand times worse than Fred and George Weasley. All the teachers just let her be, because they couldn't stop her no matter how much they tried. They knew she was harmless, and everyone liked her. Even Snape."

"Even Snape?" Harry echoed. "But the way she's acting I thought she was in Hufflepuff or something!"

"No, I wasn't," Piper said, suddenly standing behind them. They both jumped. Somehow she had managed to creep up on them without a single sound. Harry was beginning to understand what Draco had meant about her being a thousand times worse than Fred and George. They had never been able to pull a stunt like that. "I was in Slytherin alright, just like my 'ickle brother here, and I kicked the arses of the best, let me tell you!"

Harry expressed his astonishment at this.

"Piper won every wizard duel she participated in," Draco informed him, suddenly sounding a bit proud of his sister. "She was Head Girl, and everyone had utter respect for her."

"Really?" Harry was impressed.

"Yep, and I must say it was refreshing to meet Snape again," Piper said, brushing some lint off her expensive yellowish-green robes. "He's always appreciated my jokes. And even though he's been around a while he's still sexy." There came that girlish laughter again.

Harry was embarrassed to find that he was blushing. It was just that the thought of Snape being sexy made him barf inside... How could anyone see him as anything else than annoying and unpleasant?

Piper clapped her hands together. "Sorry, lads, got to go prepare for my next class. I'll be seeing you this afternoon, and don't forget to bring your wands. There will be a lot of waving and chanting from now on!" And she Disapparated again.

For a moment they stood still in indecision.

"This year's Defense Against the Dark Arts is actually going to be interesting," Draco said. "My sister is perfect for the job, there's no-one better than her. She's the best. And if anyone can come up with crazy ideas for classes, it's her. Well, shall we go to Transfiguration, handsome?"

* * *

**A/N:** OK, so there you have her... my own little Mary Sue... She's going to be a frequent guest from now on. :P 


	11. Owl Delivery

**Owl Delivery**

Their time at Hogwarts was coming to an end, and the unknown future was knocking on the doors of their minds. Piper Malfoy had been the only Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher fearless, good, and stupid enough to stay for more than one year, and her lessons were both educational and fun.

Harry felt reluctant to leave this place, knowing that he would probably never return. It had been his home for seven years; it was not so easy to just let it go. At least he had the comfort and the pleasure of planning a future together with Draco to look forward to. They were both going into Auror training the upcoming Autumn, but until then they had more than two months just to themselves. They had already begun to look for apartments in London. Harry wanted to be close to Diagon Alley in case there ever was anything they needed. Besides, London was big, and it was the location of the Ministry of Magic; it was the best place to hide from the Death Eaters.

But on graduation day, it was time to say goodbye.

"There's something I need to do before we can have our life together," Draco said reluctantly; their heads were so close together it looked as if they were both cyclops.

Harry had a cold lump in the pit of his stomach. "You're gonna kill him, aren't you?"

Neither of them had to elaborate further on who "he" was.

Draco hesitated. Then, "You know I have to. I'm not going over there to kill him... but he won't just listen to what I have to say and be happy with that; he'll want my blood. It will be in self-defense. I know that I can win over him at any time, because you're the one who taught me."

They did not want to let go of each other.

Hermione and Ron stood three feet away, waiting for Harry. Hermione had already found a place in London where they would all stay until Harry and Draco had got their own place. Piper had worked up a small fortune over the years, and she had agreed to help them with the down payment for their future apartment to give them a clean start.

The sister had actually turned out to be a really nice person – her excessive energy notwithstanding. Hermione had a stern expression on her face. Ron still had not told her how he felt about her even though it became more and more obvious for every day that passed.

Ultimately, Draco let go of Harry and took a step back. "I'll only be a couple of days," he promised. "I probably have to dodge a few Death Eaters before I can return to you, but I give you my word I'll come back in one piece. Slashed and bruised, maybe, but in one piece."

"You better," Harry warned him.

Draco kissed him briefly on the cheek. "Meet me outside St. Mungo's street entrance at 7 PM in two days." One moment later, he had Disapparated.

Tears came to Harry's eyes. He had a really bad feeling about Draco going back to Malfoy Manor alone. It would have been better if they had gone together. At least then he would have been able to take care of him, protect him. He could not shake the feeling that he would never see Draco again.

Hermione came to his side and put an arm around his shoulders. "Come on, Harry, let's go to my place. We can talk about this there."

Harry nodded and let himself be escorted to her apartment in London.

* * *

Draco prepared himself for the worst when he went back to the Manor, because he knew what a vicious person his father was. Lucius Malfoy had counted on his son standing by his side in the upcoming war between dark and light wizards since his daughter had already betrayed him, so when he heard of Draco's relationship with Harry Potter he must have been beyond wrath. Now he was ready to fight for his future with Harry, because it was the only thing that kept him alive, the only thing he had to look forward to.

Whatever he had expected to find when he came back, he did not find it there. What met him when he Apparated in his old den stunned and scared him. He had expected his father to be unaware of his return, but now it seemed as if he had counted on it.

Draco looked at Malfoy senior, whose pale face was twisted by a silent rage. Beside him stood Draco's mother, Narcissa Malfoy, with a cold-hearted gleeful grin on her face. Sure, Draco had expected his mother to be there, but he had not expected the others.

Before him stood at least twenty other Death Eaters, like an army waiting for the order to strike, and amongst them were his old classmates Crabbe, Goyle, Pansy Parkinson, and Blaise Zabini. He definitely had not anticipated them to be there, but neither had he thought better of them than to wind up as Death Eaters; it was exactly what you could have expected from them. Now it all seemed so clear that his returning there alone had been a huge mistake.

"Ah, Draco," Lucius drawled with a cold sneer, "I see that you have returned to clear up your tainted past. Am I right?"

Draco immediately went back into the old Malfoy-act. "Go to Hell, old fart, I don't need you to tell me what is obvious."

Lucius laughed. A chill passed through Draco's bones. "Think you still have the advantage, do you? Well, son, you couldn't be more wrong. Look around you. We are too many for you to handle on your own, you just have to admit that you've lost."

"Never," Draco said. "I won't have lost until I'm dead."

Immediately after saying that, he regretted it.

He had signed his own death order.

The sneer on Lucius Malfoy's face widened, and for some reason he reminded Draco of a dragon. "That can easily be arranged, Draco. But I think we have a better solution."

He snapped his fingers, and six big Death Eaters came forward. At Lucius's signal, they all slashed at him, forcing him to the floor. The pain was excruciating. He could not find his breath. The world spun before his eyes and a misty, oily blackness started to appear at the corners of his vision. He was going away, he would pass out from the pain any second, and all he could think about was Harry. How he had left him with the promise of returning in two days – in one piece, he had said – but now he was not even sure that he would be able to return even in pieces. He thought of Harry waiting for him for all eternity, just waiting, but he never came...

* * *

Ron, and foremost Hermione, helped him through those two unbearable days when he had to wait for Draco's return, otherwise he probably would have gone mad with anxiety. He felt so bloody helpless, just sitting there. He wanted to help his lover, but he had promised to stay away and let him fix it on his own. It was just so hard...

When the day finally came he was so nervous that he made Hermione promise to go with him. He did not trust himself to go there on his own, because in this condition he would probably splinch himself. And that would not be a pretty sight for the Muggles of London.

Finally, the clock struck seven, and they were finally standing outside the entrance to St. Mungo's Hospital. Harry impatiently paced up and down the street, occasionally glancing at the display window with the half-dressed dummies as if expecting Draco to emerge from _inside_ the hospital.

The minutes ticked away. Seven-fifteen. Seven-thirty. Seven forty-five. "Something's wrong," Harry said, his eyes watering. "Why isn't he returning?"

Hermione put a hand on his shoulder to try to calm him, but he brushed it away. "Harry, I'm sure he's fine, he's probably just running a little late..."

"_A little late_?" Harry echoed, beside himself with worry. "_A little late?_ Hermione, it's been more than an hour! Something's happened to him."

She tried to find something soothing to say, but evidently she had come to the same conclusion as he had, and she did not have the heart to lie just to make him feel better.

"I have to find him," Harry declared and started to walk down the street.

Hermione hurried after him. "Harry, wait! How are you going to do that? You don't even know where he is!"

"That doesn't matter. I'll start at the Manor and then I'll try and figure out where to go from there." Nothing could stop him from finding his lover – nothing.

Just when he was about to Apparate to the Malfoy Manor, an owl appeared before him and made him start. It dropped a small letter into his hands. Frowning, he slit it open. When he had read it he dropped it on the ground, and his hands were shaking so bad that he could actually feel it reverberate through his bones.

Hermione had caught up with him. "What's wrong, Harry?" she asked with concern. Then she noticed the piece of parchment lying on the sidewalk. She stooped down to pick it up. She too grew pale and shaky after reading it.

Harry closed his eyes in denial. No, it could not be true, it _must _not be true...

But the note was still there. Taunting him.

"_Your boyfriend is dead._"


	12. Mispronounced Spell

**Mispronounced Spell**

Draco came to several hours later, and the first thing he got aware of was the immense pain in every limb and every muscle of his entire body, and the alarming dizziness when he tried to sit up. His left eye was swollen shut, and he was bleeding from two cuts in the forehead. His right wrist was broken.

_Must have fallen on it when I fainted_, he thought grimly. He was surprised to be alive despite his father's words. But on the other hand, he had said that he knew something worse than death, and Draco did not doubt it. His father was a cruel man, capable of anything.

He gazed around at his surroundings. Two men were watching him, apparently waiting for him to wake up. He wondered where they had taken him; he did not recognize the place, which meant that he was not at the Manor anymore.

"Welcome back, Draco," one of the men said, the bigger of the two. Draco recognized his voice, but he could not quite place it. "Your father has ordered us to take care of a little something for him."

"Oh, really?" Draco croaked. Blimey, his throat was _burning_!

The smaller man laughed. "Yes, we have distinct orders to cast a Memory Charm on you..."

"...to make you forget your little boyfriend," the bigger man finished. "And then... we have orders to kill him."

Draco felt fear wash over him. _No... anything but that... not Harry..._

He wanted to hit them, kick them, kill them, whatever, but he could not even muster enough strength to lift his own head. All he could do was to watch as the two Death Eaters raised their wands. He closed his eyes as a pure reflex.

The bigger man was the one who spoke. "You won't remember anything about your precious Potter, and you certainly won't ever meet him again. You're condemned to forever live in oblivion."

And then they both cast the spell.

"_Oblivius!_"

* * *

**A/N:** (It's "Obliviate"...) 


	13. Spare some change, sir?

"**Spare some change, sir?"**

She watched over him every day and did not leave his side for a minute, not even to eat or to go to the bathroom. Ron brought her food from the kitchen, so romantically loyal despite the fact that he neither could nor liked to cook, and she easily managed her toilet duties by using a spell on herself that effectively drained her of all excessive fluids and emptied her bowels.

She was worried about him. The only movements he made was the mechanical fluttering of his eyelashes when he blinked and the automatic rise-and-fall rhythm of his breathing. He never ate, never slept. Not for three whole days. It became more obvious now than ever how much Draco must have meant to him; something they had all doubted strongly during the past two years. It simply seemed too absurd to be true, their love for each other. But now Hermione had become a believer.

When she saw the agony and the emptiness in Harry's eyes, she knew in her heart that Draco had been his entire life. They had been inseparable, and now it seemed as if they were forever separated by death.

The hours that went by were all the same; nothing could distinguish day from night anymore; every minute was the same minute, and every second was the same second. They were caught in a time loop, forever condemned to live through the same hideous moment.

"They're coming for me, aren't they?" he mumbled all of a sudden. It was the first words he had spoken since the owl had delivered the letter from the Death Eaters, and even though they were dark, melancholy, and defeated – tainted with a profound and heart-breaking sorrow – they warmed Hermione's heart and brought her some hope.

Harry was still staring up into the ceiling as he had done for at least 48 hours now, not seeing this world. But at least he had made contact with it again.

"They're going to kill me, aren't they?" he went on when no answer came.

Hermione swiftly took his hand in hers. "We'll fight them off together," she assured him. "We'll keep them at bay."

"No."

Hermione flinched. "Harry, if you're worried that they're too many..."

"What's the point?" Harry queried, and Hermione felt as if she had been stabbed when she heard the hollowness in his voice. "What's the point fighting them off when it won't bring him back to me? He's gone."

Hot, smarting tears came to her eyes when she realised where he was going. _No..._

"Just let them kill me. There's no point in going on without him. My life is meaningless without him. Promise me you'll let them kill me when they come."

"Harry!"

"Promise me, Hermione. I don't want to be in this pain. I don't want to spend seventy years or more without him. If dying is the only way to be reunited with him, then I will gladly embrace death."

"_Nooo_!" Hermione shrieked, getting up from the chair that she had pulled up to the bed. "No! I won't let you give up that easily, Harry! I too miss Draco, and I think it's awful that this had to happen, but I can't let you get yourself killed on purpose! Remember your destiny, Harry – the prophecy. You are the only one who can stop Voldemort. Otherwise the world will be turned into his battlefield!"

"Then so be it. I don't care anymore. It doesn't matter how much I fight, how much I strain... it will never bring him back. Don't you see? My destiny cheated me."

This was too much for Hermione to bear. Crying in frustration and fright she deserted the room and retreated to a secluded corner in her study. How could he...? How _could_ he...?

She did not know how long she had sat there crying, but suddenly she became aware of an odd sound. She forced herself to stop sobbing and listened carefully. It had sounded as if someone had opened and slammed shut the front door. But who...?

"Harry."

Silently praying that he was not so stupid as to actually seek out trouble for himself in the streets of London, she hurried back to the bedroom. But all her worst fears seemed to have been justified; Harry was gone.

* * *

He needed to clear his head a bit. In a sense, Hermione had been right in telling him that he could not just lie there and do nothing – which she had told him a hundred times since he had gone into his semi-catatonic state. But when it came to the prophecy about him and Voldemort, he really did not care anymore.

All those years when he had persistently fought Voldemort and his Death Eaters, it had been without a real purpose; he had just been fighting. He had told himself that he was fighting for mankind in general, and for all good witches and wizards out there, because he was the only one who could fend off evil long enough to make it matter in the long run, but deep inside he had known better. It had not been enough to fight for the world, because he had been doing someone else's job. Then, when he got involved with Draco, all that had changed. Suddenly he had something to fight for; their future together.

And that could not happen with Voldemort and the Death Eaters around. They had vowed to always stay together, never to leave – and _they_ had taken him away from him.

You did not just break a vow like that – it was sacred.

Harry shuffled his feet along the blacktop as he walked down the streets of London, silently hoping that a huge truck would run him over. But that was too easy, was not it?

"Spare some change, sir?"

Harry flinched. An aching pain began to throb in his heart, as if he had been mortally wounded and was swiftly bleeding to death, his heart pounding out the last ounces right there and then. No. It was not possible, it was not fair goddamnit! How _dared_ they impersonate his deceased lover at a time like this? Not even Death Eaters ought to be _that_ cruel...

As if frightened to find a ghost behind him, Harry slowly, slowly turned around – and whimpered. There, on the ground, leaning his back against the graffitied wall, Draco was sitting. Dirty, beaten, exhausted, yes, but still his Draco, there was no doubting it. Seeing him alive and well, even though he looked as worse as a person could be without actually being dead, pained Harry more than the message from the owl had done, because this _could not be_ his Draco.

Draco was dead.

But why on Earth would the Death Eaters impersonate the young Malfoy heir just to play him a cruel joke? Would not it just be easier to kill him on the spot?

"Spare some change, sir?" Draco repeated, holding out an empty aluminum can.

Was it really him? Was he really alive? Harry did not know what to think, but he bloody well knew what he wanted to believe. But if this _was_ Draco... then why did not he recognise him? It was just that... this lad was wearing Draco's clothes. His favourite emerald green silk shirt, and the expensive grey trousers that went so well with his eyes, even the shoes were the same. But now they were all slashed and dirty. Still...

With a tremulous voice, Harry tried to make sure whether it was true or not. "Dra... Draco? Is... is it really you?"

The young blonde on the ground frowned. "Do I know you, sir?"

Acting on a sudden impulse, Harry kneeled beside the blonde and grabbed his arm. Before the boy had time to object, Harry pulled up the sleeve of his silk shirt. When he saw the heart-shaped birthmark just below the elbow, Harry stumbled backwards in shock. It was him. It _was_ him! _Draco..._ Wide-eyed, he looked at the blonde anew. "You're alive!" he breathed, beside himself with joy and relief. "They didn't kill you!"

Draco stared at him indignantly – oh, yeah, this was his Draco all right, there was no mistaking that self-righteous expression – and had apparently decided that Harry was a madman. "Get your bloody hands of me, mister! You have no right to assault me just because I'm worse off than you! If you don't intend to spare any change, then please bugger off!"

Harry grinned from ear to ear when he heard those words. The voice, the tone, the superiority – it was all Malfoy trademarks. _He is back_, he thought happily. Without thinking he threw himself around the blonde's neck. "Draco, you're back! Bloody menace, I thought I'd never see you again!"

Draco heavily pushed him away. "Just what the Hell do you think you're doing?" he roared, his face going a healthy rage-red.

Harry stared at him in bewilderment. "But... don't you recognise me?"

"And how the Hell should I when I've never seen you before in my life!" Draco yelled incredulously.

"But Dracums... it's me – Harry. It's Harry."

"Harry who? Does it look as if I care?"

Yet again Harry felt as if someone had stabbed him right through his heart. Draco did not remember him. And there was a simple explanation to that. "They used the Obliviation Charm, didn't they?" he stated to himself. "They forced you to forget all about me and our life together, must've figured it would be a crueller punishment than death. The note they sent me was just a warning."

The blonde glared at him with evident fright in his eyes. "Wha-what are you rambling about?" he stuttered.

The decision was not hard to make. If it came down to living his life entirely without Draco in it or to live it with a Draco without any recollections of the past whatsoever, he would have chosen alternative two any day. "You're coming with me," he said firmly, rising from the pavement. Then he offered his hand to Draco. "C'mon, let's go to the apartment, it's cold out here."

Draco studied his hand with suspicion. "Why should I come with you?" he asked, but Harry thought he detected at least a faint shadow of the trust that Draco had recently had in him.

"Because I know who you are," Harry said without hesitation. "You don't, do you?"

"That's none of your bloody business!"

"You still have your colourful vocabulary, I hear. That must mean that you're closer to the surface of what you once were than Professor Lockhart could ever get."

"Professor who?"

"Oh, sorry mate, I forget that you've lost your memory. Now get up from there, you're going to freeze to death if you stay out here. I can give you a warm bed to sleep in, food on the table as often as you want, and a shower, _and _I can help you to regain your memory. How does that sound? Or would you rather stay here and wait for that spared change of yours?"

Those words hit the spot, just as he had hoped. Draco allowed himself to be dragged up from the ground, and with Harry supporting him he managed to walk back to Hermione's apartment.


	14. I don't even know your name

**I don't even know your name...**

When the front door opened, Hermione shot up from her chair and ran out of the kitchen. "Oh, Harry! I thought you'd never come back! Where have you—"

She lost all contact with her brain when she realised that Harry was not alone. And when she saw who it was that he had brought back home...

"Draco?" Her voice was merely a faint trace of a whisper.

The injured blonde scowled at her. "And who the Hell is she? Your girlfriend?"

Hermione flinched. She looked at Harry. "What...?"

Harry closed the door behind them. "They took his memory, Hermione. He can't remember anything. I need to help him."

Hermione watched as Harry escorted the blond vagrant into her obsessive-compulsively spotless living room. "But Harry, how can you be so sure that he is—"

"I found proof," Harry said immediately, "the birthmark on his arm. If anyone should recognise it, it's me, right? And if you don't believe me, just listen to how he speaks."

"And what exactly is that supposed to mean?" the blonde expelled angrily. "Are you implying that I have some sort of pronunciation disorder, you filthy lunatic? First you force me to come with you to your apartment, and then you have the nerve to insult me! Is that any way to treat a guest?"

Harry gave Hermione a meaning look. "See what I mean?"

Yes, she understood perfectly well what he meant. If that boy was not Draco Malfoy, then the world must have spun out of course. Yet, she worried about Harry. Taking in Draco now might be the biggest mistake of his life, bearing his amnesia in mind. She did not want him to get his hopes up without being absolutely sure that he would be able to bring the real Draco back from the depths of his spell-induced memory loss. If Harry failed to make Draco remember... he would be even more devastated than if the blonde really _had_ been dead.

And then there was the matter of the Death Eaters. If they had wanted Harry to believe that Draco was dead... what would they do when they found out that Harry had found him? This whole business seemed way too risky, and there were other more important things at stake than the love between two seventeen-year-old boys.

"Hermione, could you bring Draco some water, please?" Harry asked her while fluffing a couple of cushions for the blonde. Turned to Draco, he said, "Are you hungry? Would you like me to whip up some food for you?"

Draco still regarded him with utmost suspicion. Partly letting his guard down, he said, "All right. I guess I'm a bit hungry... can't remember when I last ate." He scratched his nose.

Harry sat down in the armchair opposite the sofa where he had put Draco. "I hope it wasn't the end-of-term feast that we had before we departed five days ago."

" 'End-of-term'?" Draco repeated. "Please don't try to fool me into believing that we went to school together, too." The blonde snorted and shook his head as if to confirm his own words to himself.

Harry knew he had to be patient. "We did," he said calmly.

"Oh yeah? Then how come I don't remember it?"

"I told you. The Death Eaters erased your memory."

"Death eaters? Yeah, right. And what's next? Wizards?"

Harry raised his eyebrows in astonishment. "What makes you say that?"

"Well, bearing your other hallucinations in mind I wouldn't be surprised if you were convinced you were some sort of sorcerer."

"I am."

"Of course you are."

"And so are you. We went to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry together for seven years. It's a castle a little north of..."

"Please, spare me the sob stories," Draco scorned and made a wry face.

Hermione returned with the water and carefully put it down on the coffee table in front of Malfoy. Then she took a seat in the armchair next to Harry's.

Harry decided to be bold and show Draco his true colours right from the start. _It might be the only way to make him believe me_, he thought as he withdrew his wand from his jacket pocket. Draco stared at it wide-eyed. Evidently he understood precisely what it was. Harry pointed the wand at the coffee table and made a few swirling movements in the air. "_Munchilato Apparo_," he said, and five of Draco's favourite dishes appeared on the table.

The blonde stared at the food in disbelief, and then he stared at Harry with terror in his silvery eyes. "Ho... how did you... Wh-who the Hell are you? _What_ are you?"

Harry looked him deep into the eyes when he replied, desperately searching for some kind of trace of his Dracums in there. "Hermione, could you leave us, please?" he said in a calm voice without breaking eye-contact with his lover. He did not notice the sigh of irritation that escaped Hermione when she crossed her legs and said, "Oh, all right," and Disapparated to her bedroom.

Draco stared at the spot where she had been only a second ago. "What the Hell just happened?" he asked. "Your... your girlfriend just... disappeared into thin air, for fuck's sake!"

"She's not my girlfriend, she's just one of my closest friends, and she's letting me stay here until I found my own apartment," Harry informed him. "Well... until _we_ find our own apartment."

The blonde stared down at the food on the table. His grey eyes glimmered with dark anticipation and suspicion for a while, most likely because he was trying to determine whether the food had been poisoned or not. "What do you mean, '_we_'?" he asked in a low voice.

Harry wished that he had not allowed Draco to go. Then he would not have had to explain everything to him as if they had never met before. This was their future they were talking about, and Draco knew nothing of it.

He rose from the armchair, intending to make the spare bed for his lover. "Eat your dinner – it's all your favourites. You were hungry just a while ago, right? And try to get some sleep. We'll talk more in the morning."

Draco was still looking down with that bewildered, self-conscious, and doubting expression on his pale, perfect face. "And what will you do?" he asked.

Harry stopped short in the doorway. "I will watch over you, like I always do."

The other boy was silent.

Feeling bold, Harry dared to add: "Does it comfort you?" He got no answer, but he thought he sensed some kind of reaction from the blonde ex-Slytherin. And just when he was leaving the room he heard the blonde respond silently, as if he was talking to himself. "I'm just not used to having people watching over me."

Harry wondered what Draco had gone through during the 5 days that they had been separated. Listening to him, it almost sounded as if his lover had spent his whole life in the street, depending only on himself for survival and since long abandoned by the world. It saddened him, because in a sense it was true.

* * *

Watching Draco sleep so troubled made his heart sink, and he wondered if the wry face that the blonde was making even in his sleep would be the only expression that Harry would ever see on his face for all of eternity.

Was it really possible to erase it? He had seen what had become of Professor Lockhart after being hit with the Obliviation Charm – and he still did not even remember his name. He was not even aware of where he was, and he had to be taken care of by a bunch of Healers all day long. But Draco's amnesia seemed to be far from that severe, because he was well aware of his surroundings, and he was not at all demented.

At first he had felt very uncomfortable with the thought of going to sleep while Harry was watching him, but eventually his eyelids had grown way too heavy to keep up and he had drifted off into a dream world plagued by monsters and evil spirits. Twice he muttered about "the bright red light" and tried to fend something off.

Harry had promised himself never to sleep again until he had succeeded to bring Draco's memory back, but he was only human; drawing upon the early hours of dawn, he fell asleep.

* * *

He dreamt that he was walking through a long corridor, many doors on each side, all of them closed. They all looked the same, but he knew that Draco – the _real_ Draco – was hidden behind one of them, waiting for him to get him. He opened the doors, one by one, hoping that he would find his lover in time – he had to be quicker, he was running out of time! But all he found behind the doors were Cornish pixies, trying to tear his hair from his head, making it even more messy than it usually was.

Finally there was only one door left. Panting, his heart racing, Harry put his hand on the knob and slowly turned it. A happy smile forming on his lips, he began to say, "Draco!", but when he opened the door he stood face to face with Voldemort as he remembered him from the last day of the Triwizard Tournament, and with the worst rotten halitosis in the world the Dark Lord said, "Your boyfriend is dead..."

Harry shook his head in denial, stubbornly yelling, "No, no, _no_!", and then Voldemort reached out and grabbed the collar of his shirt—

* * *

—Harry woke with a start and fell out of the chair. He fell to the floor with a loud _Thump!_ and woke also Draco. "What? What's happ'nin'? Where's the fire?" he asked drowsily, surveying the gloomy room with fright. Then he spotted Harry on the floor. "Oh, it's you. What are you doing down there?"

Something in his voice encouraged Harry and led him to believe that the blonde's memory had returned during the night. "Draco! You're back! Aren't you, Dracums? Sure it's you, Draco? You remember me now, don't you?"

His lover frowned warily at him. "I remember you forcing me to come back here with you last night, and then you fed me and put me to bed. Gee, thanks Mummy, I really appreciate the hospitality. Now will you let me sleep in peace? And leave my room, for God's sake. What are you, a pervert?"

Harry's heart sank again. Why did he keep working himself up like that? Of course Draco had not regained his memory yet – it would take a lot of time and a lot of work. He wondered if he would be able to cope with it or if he would eventually go mad trying. "Sorry, baby. I just... it was a bad dream, 's all."

Draco stared at him with eyes big as saucers, and the look on his face reflected utmost fury and indignation. "Excuse me – what the Hell did you just call me?"

Harry blinked sheepishly. "What?" And then he realised what he had said. "Oh. 'Baby,' you mean? Well, there is a perfectly good explanation for that..."

"So tell me before I punch your fucking lights out!"

"I..." Blimey, how was he supposed to explain all this to him without sounding even more deranged? "I love you," he heard himself say, which probably was much, much worse than calling him 'Baby.'

"_WHAT?_"

"I'm your boyfriend."

Draco gaped at him in astonishment for several seconds. Then he seemed to collect himself. The fury was once again burning in his silver eyes. "Are you trying to fool me into believing that I'm gay too? I can't believe the nerve of you! Do you know who I am?"

Harry flinched. "What?" The blonde's last words echoed through his mind repeatedly. _Do you know who I am? Do you know who I am? Do you know who I am?_ Did he remember? Did he remember who he was? Had he somehow found his name and origin in his sleep? Did he... did he remember being a wizard? Did he remember being the son of Lucius Malfoy? Because those six words implied that he was aware of the Malfoy blood running through his veins, that he knew that his family's values told him that he was worth more than any other "regular" wizard. Did he also remember that Harry was a mere half-blood? Was that why he...?

There were so many questions he wanted to ask, but none of them wanted to leave his sheepishly gaping mouth.

Directly after uttering those six words, Draco himself flinched. He looked surprised _himself_ to have said that. "Do you know who I am?" he repeated, but this time it was said in a much lower, more pitiable voice that reflected the utter despair that was so painfully visible in his eyes. "Do you know who I am?" He was questioning himself why he had said that, _how_ he could have said that, why those words had come out of his mouth...

He looked up at Harry, and Harry was startled to see that his eyes were filled with tears now. "I don't know who I am," he whispered as if the truth had suddenly struck him with the force of a sledgehammer. "I don't know who I am – so why did I say that? Why did I say that?"

Harry stared at him. "I dunno."

The blonde was shaking badly. With great effort he lay back down on the pillow, staring hollowly up into the ceiling. "I think I need some water."

Harry swiftly used a spell to conjure up a glass of water and offered it to the blonde, but Draco could not seem to possess the strength to sit back up, so Harry simply conjured a straw and helped his lover take careful swigs of the cold, clear liquid. When he had drunk almost all the water, Draco said, "Will you help me remember? You said you know who I am, didn't you?"

Harry closed his eyes. He could see the End-of-term banquet before him. Draco had been so beautiful then, and now he was all bruised and beaten and slashed, a mere memory of what he had once been, the proud Malfoy heir. "Of course I know who you are," he said calmly, "you're my boyfriend. And I promise you I'll do my best to help you remember, because I can't live without you. Without you... I'm dead."

The silence between them was tense and uncomfortable, but still it soothed both of them. Once, in the past that seemed to be lightyears away, they had shared many silences, _good_ silences – lovely silences. No words had been needed to tell the other what they felt; the bond between had been incredibly strong.

But now the silence was getting oppressive, because Harry did not know what Draco was thinking. He did not know what he felt anymore, other than the pain that was so obvious. But that pain had been there even two years ago, and the fact that he no longer was allowed to mend it depressed him.

Right before falling back to sleep, Draco said, "You know, I find you bloody disgusting, and you say such utterly corny things, but right now I'm glad you're here. And I don't even know your name."

A part of Harry died at that moment.

_I don't even know your name..._


	15. Moving Pictures of a Happier Time

**Moving Pictures of a Happier Time**

"What's this name you're always calling me?"

Breakfast was sheer pain for Harry, because each minute that ticked by made him recall even clearer what he had lost and might never regain. This should have been a pleasant meal savoured in their own apartment – they should have been living their dream, the dream that they had shared for two years at Hogwarts. So many hours had been spent planning their future together – the Auror training and everything – and Harry refused to admit that it had all been in vain. They would get there – eventually.

At least he had the comfort of knowing that one Draco Malfoy was trying to surface – but it was not his Dracums. _Do you know who I am?_ Those six words still played on his mind. Those six words had come straight from the Draco Malfoy that had enjoyed mocking him in the school corridors, the Draco Malfoy that had provoced him into losing his position in the Gryffindor Quidditch team in their fifth year, the very same Draco Malfoy that had been relied upon by his cruel father to become a vicious, blood-thirsty Death Eater. It was the wrong Draco, but it was an advancement nonetheless.

He poked his fork into the boilt egg in front of him. "Hmm?" he mumbled absent-mindedly.

The blonde wolfed down another sandwich. "That name – what was it? Dennis?"

"Draco."

"Yeah, that's the one. What is it?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, why are you calling me that?"

"Because that's your name – Draco Malfoy. That's your name."

"Is it really?" the blonde wondered thoughtfully. "Doesn't sound right."

"Well, it is."

"I guess. If you're saying so." He took another bite of his fourth sandwich. Still had the same appetite, though.

Draco noticed that Harry was looking at him with a depressed look on his face. "What?" he queried. "Why are you looking at me like that? Am I offending you or something?"

Harry quickly shook his head. "No. No, you're not offending me, it's just... I miss you. The _real_ you. The person you were when you left me."

The blonde stared at him for a while. Then, he said, "Well, if I left you as you say, what is there to miss? Shouldn't you be angry with me or something in that case? Or at least cry."

"I did my crying already. And it wasn't like that... you didn't _leave me_ leave me, if you know what I mean. You just... left me. There were things you needed to sort out, and I couldn't help you with that. You wouldn't let me."

Draco swallowed the last of his sandwich and drank two deep swigs of milk. "Your hallucinations are actually starting to intrigue me," he said in an amused tone of voice. "Never know what you're going to tell me next." He started to make himself a fifth sandwich. Just butter on his bread.

Hermione came in from the living room. "Good morning," she said and yawned. "Sleep well, Draco?"

"Like a baby." At first he did not reflect much over his choice of words, but then he obviously remembered what Harry had called him that very morning and grew pale. He looked down at the table.

Hermione sat down next to Harry and began to make her own sandwich. She was just about to say something else when a loud _Pop!_ interrupted her and Ron came into the room. Draco gave a shriek. "Sorry to interrupt you in breakfast and everything, but—" He spotted Draco at the table and gave a shriek of his own, backing up several paces with terror in his eyes. "What is _he_ doing here! He's _dead_!"

Draco stared at him in astonishment. "Who's _that_?"

Harry rose to greet his best friend. "Ron, that note was just a decoy," he told him. "The Death Eaters wanted me to believe that Draco was dead when they really just erased his memory."

"_Just_ erased his memory?" Ron echoed. "That's pretty damn serious, mate! So what are you going to do? Take him to St. Mungo's?"

Harry shook his head. "No, that's too risky – they might find him there. At least here he's safe, where I can protect him."

"But how's he going to regain his memory if he's not getting Healer help?"

"I'm going to make him remember," Harry said determinedly.

Ron looked at him with pity. "I admire your ambition, Harry, but I honestly don't think you have the slightest chance of winning this one. Remember Professor Lockhart, remember in what state he was when we met him at St. Mungo's – and he had been there for _three years_."

"I know, but I also know that I'll succeed. All it takes is love."

Ron lay a hand on Harry's shoulder. "For your sake I hope you're right. It'd kill me to see you that devastated again, mate. _Kill_ me."

* * *

He waited impatiently while Draco showered, holding a pile of black clothing in his arms. It was Draco's old school robes, and he hoped that wearing them would bring at least some sort of memory back to him. When the blonde saw them, however, he knitted his eyebrows in scepticism. "You expect me to wear _those_?" he said. "Yeah, like they amount to my standard!"

"And what exactly _is_ your standard?" Harry retorted. "I mean, you've lived in the street practically your whole life, haven't you? You said so yourself."

Draco frowned at him. "You're right. Why _did_ I say that?" He took the long black cloak and gave it a closer look. "What exactly _is_ this?"

"Your old school uniform."

"School uniform? That looks like this? Looks more like it's been taken straight out of a 19th century movie or something. And besides, I thought we'd already made it clear that I didn't go to school with you."

"No, _you_ made it clear that you hadn't gone to school with me," Harry corrected him. "But if you look closer at the collar, you will find that I'm right."

The blonde squinted at the nametag at the collar of the cloak.

_Draco Malfoy_.

"That doesn't mean anything," he objected, "I don't even know if that really _is_ me. How do I know that you're not fooling me?"

"You don't – you just have to trust me. Put them on."

Seeing Draco in his old uniform – with the Slytherin weapon on his chest and the bright silver Prefect badge – actually turned Harry on a bit, and he hoped the blonde did not notice because that would _really_ piss him off! It was just that... Draco looked so powerful in those robes, truly aristocratic and authoritative. The old air of superiority came back to him for a fraction of a second, and even though it was a little alarming that the old Draco seemed to want to come back out, Harry was pleased to see this temporary change in his lover.

Taking out his old cloak from the back of the wardrobe had been a good idea indeed. "How does it feel?" he asked with childish curiousity.

"Like I'm in some sort of bad costume film," Draco said, making a wry face. "Is this really what they wore at your school?"

"Yeah, that's what we wore."

"What kind of a school was this?"

"I told you – Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. One of the finest wizarding schools in the world."

The blonde stared at him. "Wizarding school? What sort of freak do you take me for? I would never in my life mix with that sort of people – let alone go to their school! They... they... they... they don't even _exist_, for crying out loud!"

"Oh, they don't, do they?" Harry echoed, and with a self-righteous smile playing on his lips he used the Summoning Charm to fetch some old memorabilia. "_Accio_ photo album."

With the album in his hand, he gave Draco a daring look. "Do you have enough strength and courage to look through some old school pictures with me?" he then asked, because he knew that 'strength' and 'courage' were key words in a successful mockery of the old Draco.

The blonde swiftly turned crimson. "Of course I have!" he hissed, and snatched the photo album from Harry's hands. With a resolute expression he sat down on the couch and opened the first page. "What the Hell's this?" he inquired when he saw the picture of one-year-old Harry together with his parents; all three of them smiling cheerfully and waving at the camera – _literally_ waving.

Harry took a seat next to his lover. "Turn a few pages and you'll see what I'm getting at," he promised.

"I don't doubt that, I just... Why are the pictures moving?"

"Oh. Those are magic pictures, developed with a certain method that makes the pictures move. Wizard pictures, you know. Really catches the moment, don't you think?"

Draco turned the pages and looked at the pictures of Harry together with Ron and Hermione with steadily growing angst. His grey eyes reflected both envy and dispair. "You... you really have special friends, sir," he mumbled and had to look away.

Harry felt a stab. "Why are you calling me 'sir'?"

"Well, I still don't know your name, do I? You never told me what your name was."

"It's Harry. Harry Potter. I was hoping you'd remember..."

"Potter, eh? Sounds familiar somehow."

Harry's heart began to pound like crazy. "It does?"

"Yeah, don't know from where, though..."

His voice trailed off as he turned another page and saw his own face smile up at him. And that was not all. In the first picture he was alone, making funny faces at the person behind the camera – Harry – and he looked really happy. In the picture next to it he was leaning against Harry, the Gryffindor's arms around him in a tight embrace, and he was looking up into Harry's eyes with a broad smile and lyric eyes. Harry, in turn, was gently kissing the crown of Draco's head.

There were more pictures like that, several in which they were kissing tenderly. But they all had the same message; they were inseparable. The promises they had made to each other were plain to read on their faces, and there was no questioning that they were as happy as people could be.

Draco, now shivering and shaking like a leaf, dropped the photo album on the floor, and it closed itself with a _bang!_. He was making pathetic panting noises. Harry, worried that he might have trouble breathing or something, instinctively put his hand on Draco's back. "Dracums? Are you all right?"

Many seconds ticked by before the blonde could answer. "I... I... You were... you were telling the truth, weren't you? I really was... We really were... right?"

He thought he understood perfectly well what the blonde was trying to say. He nodded slowly. "Yes. We were a couple, if that's what you're wondering."

"And did we... did we..."

He frowned. "Did we what?"

"Were we... happy? No, wait, that's a stupid question... of course we were happy – I saw all those pictures. We were happy, weren't we?"

"Yes. The happiest people in the world. Nothing could come between us."

"And did I... did I... love you?"

Harry flinched. It hurt him to see Draco this upset, shivering and weeping, it must be terrible to get such a revelation about oneself. "Yes," he said in a whisper, "you very much loved me. Maybe even more than I love you."

This only made Draco shiver worse. "So if I loved you as much as you say... then how come I can't remember it?" he asked darkly. "How come I can't remember all those things... in the pictures? When you held me... when you... _kissed_ me... why can't I remember all that if it meant so much to me?"

Harry did not know how to answer him. He could not understand it either.

"Why can't I remember being happy? Why can't I see all those things in my head? I mean, if it really was me living them... why can't I see them in my mind?"

Harry put his arms around Draco and enveloped him in a reassuring embrace. He whispered consolingly in his lover's ear, silently promising him that everything would be fine, everything would soon go back to normal.

"Why are you so persistent on making me remember?" Draco suddenly asked him and nonplussed him. "Why do you keep fighting? Why don't you just forget me like everyone else seems to be wanting to do?"

Harry held him tighter. "Because I promised you never to leave you. I guess you don't remember now, but... I promised you that I would always be here for you, that I'd always take care of you. And if you were ever taken away from me, I would fight for you. That's what I'm intending to do. I will fight for you, Draco, I won't give up until you're back with me – I won't even give up then. I love you, and I want you to remember me. I won't ever give up on you, because giving up on you would mean giving up on myself. You're a part of me, and I can't live without you. Without you I might as well let them kill me."

" 'Them?' There's someone who wants you dead?" Draco asked.

"Yes – the Death Eaters. They're dark wizards, the worst kind. I will tell you more about them later, but right now I think it's best if we take it easy on the info."

"I couldn't agree more." Draco actually snuggled into the embrace and closed his eyes. "You know, this doesn't feel at all that awkward – it's actually quite nice."

At that moment, Harry felt happier than he had since the owl had delivered that ominous letter to him six days ago, and he was sure that he was getting his Draco back.

He could not have been more wrong.


	16. Once a Malfoy heir, always a Malfoy heir

**A/N:** What exactly happens when you mispronounce a Memory Charm? Well, maybe these next few chapters will help you understand the dynamic... ;)

* * *

**Once a Malfoy heir, always a Malfoy heir?**

The weeks passed at a startling rate, and little more than a month after Harry found Draco in the street he still did not remember a thing. Now and then he got minor outbursts of anger that very much resembled the ones that the old Draco had had every time Harry had beat him at something. Many times he cursed Harry and Hermione for "being in his way," but neither of them fully grasped what he meant by that. Neither did Draco.

He had grown accustomed to his name, but he still felt hesitant about it. Harry tried his best to make him recall _something_, anything would do, and he told him great many anecdotes about their time at Hogwarts – solely from their sixth and seventh year, of course – and he showed him more moving pictures. Aside from that, he also taught Draco to use a magical camera and a few other items that might help relaxing the blonde.

At first it all seemed innocent enough, but eventually the blonde's behaviour started to become alarming. It all started the day that he got his first memory.

_Thirty-five days_, Harry thought grimly, _thirty-five bloody days and not a single memory! What else can I do to help him, huh? What else can I bloody DO?_ He was swiftly starting to get tired of Draco's stubbornness and reluctance to let Harry come too close to him. Ever since that one hug Draco had been very wary of Harry – and it _hurt_.

So when Draco began to break through, he naturally got blinded by his hopes of getting his lover back exactly the way he had been before leaving for the Manor.

Harry was just helping Hermione to do some cleaning around the apartment when Draco, sitting comfortably on the couch and watching him dust the surfaces of the bookcases, suddenly said: "Breaking the rules again, Potter?"

Harry froze. That voice. The utter scorn that tore through the air like bullets from a smoking gun. _The words_. Trembling, concentrating not to drop the glass figurines he was holding, he turned around to look at the blonde. "Draco?" he said shakily.

The blonde was smirking at him. Slowly, and very arrogantly, he tilted his head slightly to the left. "Why does it feel so good to say your name?" he asked in a low, intimidating tone. "Potter. Potter, Potter, Potter. Just to spit it out, like a gum. Fuck you, Potter!"

Now Harry was trembling so bad that he had to put the glass figurines down and lean against the bookcase next to him not to fall to the floor.

Hermione appeared in the doorway. Apparently she had heard Draco's cry and come to see what was going on. She frowned at Harry.

Draco started to get up from the couch. "I think I'm remembering something," he said, very slowly rounding the coffee table and starting to walk towards Harry. "A dark corridor... stone walls, marble floor, heavy oak doors... yes, I am definitely remembering now. You were pestering me about something, weren't you, Potter?"

He stopped a foot from Harry, and his grey eyes were just as cold as they had ever been. "I challenged you to a duel, didn't I? Midnight in the trophy room, I recall. But I can't quite remember what this trophy room was, or what kind of a duel we're talking about – only that I fooled you. I never showed up, I told Filch you'd be there to teach you a little lesson. How come you never got caught that night, Potter? How did you escape Filch?"

Harry, his head now pressing painfully against the bookcase, swallowed hard. This was not good – this was not good at all. Draco's drawling gave him a really bad feeling, and he reluctantly admit to himself that the blonde was scaring him. "You... you remember Filch?" he found himself saying.

Draco studied him closely, not breaking eyecontact even for a second, leaning in closer for a more intimidating effect. Hermione called out to him, but Draco only waved her away. Eyes still fixed on Harry's, he said, "I remember how much I hated you, _Potter_."

"Harry? Are you all right?" Hermone asked worriedly. "Is he hurting you?"

Harry swallowed hard. Forcing himself to calm down and believe in Draco and everything they had shared for two wonderful years, he found the words to answer. "Ye-yes, I'm fine, don't worry. He's not hurting me. He's merely recalling... certain events of the past."

"But he said he hated you," Hermione objected.

"He's just trying to get in touch with his memory, Hermione. Nothing to worry about. Now go back to the kitchen, okay? I can handle this."

She hesitated. But she left them alone.

Harry expelled in a sigh of relief. "Draco, you can let go of me now."

"Why should I?"

"Excuse me? Why? Because pinning me to the bookcase doesn't get you anywhere."

"You're right – I don't have my wand."

Harry's eyes widened with astonishment. "Your wand? But then you—"

The sneer that formed on Draco's lips was a perfect display of darkness and malice. "Yes, little Potter, I remember everything now. Just a few minutes ago it was just that long, dark corridor – nothing else – but now I remember it all. I'm Draco Malfoy – son of Lucius Malfoy, the wealthiest and most powerful wizard in all of England – and I went to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry for seven years, I was a Slytherin and I enjoyed mocking you very much. And I haven't forgotten what you did to my father, Potter. How you went and told everyone that he's a Death Eater. He was seized by the Ministry because of you. You destroyed his reputation – you tainted our name. That was unforgivable, Potter. Unforgivable. And if my wand hadn't been broken and thrown away I would have simply killed you right here and now."

Shocked, but at the same time feeling bloody bold, Harry heard himself speak as if from a distance of several hundred yards. "So kill me, then. There are loads of other ways to do it even without your wand."

"A Malfoy would never use his hands for such petty duties, you idiot."

"No? Coward, Malfoy?" What was this? Why was he provocing him? Why was he back in his old habit of picking on Draco? He _loved_ him. He _needed_ him. He was his _boyfriend_.

Draco looked as if Harry had slapped him. Swiftly he shot forward and put his hands around Harry's throat. Pressed hard. Choked him. Harry desperately gasped for breath, but no oxygen managed to reach his lungs. Draco was going to strangle him to death. _Why?_ he thought in despair. _Why are you doing this? Why don't you remember? Why don't you remember everything we had together? WHY?_

Fortunately, Hermione came back into the living room to ask him something, or fetch something or whatever, and when she saw what was happening she cried out and drew her wand. "_Rictusempra_!"

When the jinx hit Draco he automatically let go of Harry, who fell to the floor wheezing like a pipe. He looked at Hermione with pure hatred in his silvery eyes. "Do you really think that a _Tickling Spell_ will stop me?" he asked disbelievingly. "Don't you see that this is only the beginning?"

Hermione was beside herself with anger. "Get out! Get the Hell out of my apartment!" she shouted.

Draco sneered self-righteously at her. "This isn't all you'll see of me, Mudblood. You just wait. One day you'll stand on the wrong side of the battlefield, and when that day comes I will _kill_ you. That's a promise."

"Get out, I said! Get out and don't you dare come back here!"

Draco straightened up. "As you wish, _witch_." He Disapparated before Hermione had the chance to curse him.

Harry sat up with some effort. He was still shaking badly to the bone. He hardly noticed when Hermione kneeled beside him and put her hand on his shoulder, or when she asked him if he was okay; all he could think about was his once again lost lover, and he wondered how much he could take before going irreparably insane.

Was this the end? Had he fought so hard for their relationship only to let it end like this? Had he forever lost the Draco that he loved, or was there still a chance of getting him back? And if he went looking for him again... would Draco listen to him? Or would he kill him?

He collapsed in Hermione's arms.

"_Draco..._"


	17. Lucius the Lured

**Lucius the Lured**

Draco felt righteously angry for losing more than a month of his precious time over something as trivial and childish as a fucking amnesia! And in the care of bloody Saint Potter at that! Well, now he would make up for that, and no more time would be wasted – he would make every second worthwhile.

He Apparated to the parlour, which had always been his favourite room, and obviously interrupted some kind of meeting. He stopped dead in his tracks and looked at all the people that were gathered in the room, silently cherishing every single familiar face.

When he appeared in front of them, they all fell silent and stared in utter disbelief. Some of them even rose to their feet, reaching for their wands, but none of them seemed to dare to break eye-contact with him while doing so. Many Death Eaters regarded him with fear. Draco wondered what the Hell had happened while he had been gone.

Right in the middle, Malfoy senior was standing with an important look on his pale, stern face, but when Draco showed up he seemed to lose track of his words. Draco began to circle around the gathered Death Eaters to get to his father. "What's up with you all?" he asked. "You look as if you've seen a ghost or something. Listen, I don't know who did this to me, but I bloody Hell will find the people responsible – and when I do I will kill them all! You don't mess with a Malfoy unpunished!"

Some of the surprise faded from Lucius Malfoy's face and was replaced by a slightly amused understanding. "Coming to take your revenge, Draco?" he asked. "I must say that you cast that amnesia of yours surprisingly quickly..."

Draco knitted his eyebrows suspiciously. "Revenge? What are you talking about? I only came back to do what I should have done a month ago."

Fear settled in his father's eyes, and he made an urgent gesture to a few of his men. "Seize him!" he yelled.

Draco could not hide his bafflement at this. Suddenly four large Death Eaters had seized him from behind and were attempting to drag him out of the room. Furious, he shouted, "What the bloody Hell is this supposed to mean? How dare you touch me, you filthy low-status half-wits! Let go of me immediately! Do you know who I am?"

A shadow passed over the icy grey surfaces of Malfoy senior's eyes. He held up his hand. "Wait. I want to hear what he has to say before you kill him."

"_KILL ME?_" Draco could not believe his ears. "Father, what _is_ this? Why are you all looking at me as if I was some sort of juvenile delinquent? I demand an answer!"

Several of the Death Eaters present were staring at him with utmost puzzlement. They all acted as if he had come there to curse them all, and he could not for his life understand why. When had he ever wished them any harm? He was one of them, for crying out loud!

His father was studying him intently, slowly and thoughtfully scratching his chin. "Why did you come back here?" he asked.

Draco was astonished. "Why? I _live_ here, for Christ's sake! What kind of a question is that?"

The Death Eaters gasped in unison.

He glared at them angrily.

"Really?" Lucius was saying now. "I thought your wish was to sever all bonds with your family and go to live with Potter." He spat out the name in quite the same fashion as Draco had done when his memory had returned to him.

"Live with Potter? As if! Whatever gave you that stupid idea?"

"You did."

"I—! I _what_?"

"Yes, during your sixth year at Hogwarts you came here telling me how much you loved Potter and how you wanted to build a future with him – and you clearly said that you never wanted anything else to do with me, the Dark Lord, or the Death Eaters. You were quite clear on your point, Draco. So what changed your mind?"

Draco was shaken and shocked by this revelation. He had... _what?_ _With Potter?_ Were they joking with him?

But their stern, wary faces were more than enough to convince Draco that this was no joke; it was the truth. "But I never changed my mind," he protested, "I have never said any of those things, and I certainly don't... _love_... that Potter brat – he's a half-blood for fuck's sake! _And_ he's a _boy_! What are you thinking of me, father? Would I have betrayed you for _him_? I _hate_ him! I want him dead, and I promise you I'll go after him as soon as I have purchased a new wand! Now, would someone please tell me what this is all about? And let me the fuck go already!"

He tore free from the four Death Eaters holding him, and they did not try to grasp him again.

Lucius's face had lit up with a wide, self-satisfied grin of amused malice. "I see... so you don't remember that part of your past, do you?" he stated, seemingly very pleased with himself for making this observation. Draco just stared at him, because he did not understand what the Hell he was talking about. "Well, this was an interesting side-effect of the spell... You really intend to kill Potter, Draco?"

"Yes! How many times do I have to tell you? Did you go senile while I was away?"

"Then, in that case... Welcome home, Draco."

Draco snorted and crossed his arms over his chest. With a dark look in his grey eyes, he said, "Well? Where are my servants? I need to get out of these hideous clothes! I look like some sort of low-rate Muggle." As soon as the house-elves turned up at the door he began to give them harsh orders. Then he turned to his father again. "And where's the bloody Lord? I want my Mark."


	18. New Plagues of Old Pleasure

**New Plagues of Old Pleasure**

Harry did not understand where he had gone wrong – he had done everything in his power to make Draco remember everything that they had gone through to be together, but the only thing he had succeeded to accomplish was to bring back the old _evil_ Draco Malfoy to the world, and twice as bad as usual! How could that have happened?

He pondered his mind with this over and over, but he could not find any straight answers. His throat was sore and ached with pain. It had been close this time; he had almost passed out when Hermione came into the room.

"Thanks," he said hoarsely, carefully rubbing his aching throat with one hand.

She helped him stand up. "What happened? Why did he try to kill you? I thought he was starting to remember..."

"He was – he said he remembered everything," Harry told her as he sat down in one of the armchairs. "But apparently he only remembered everything up to our fifth year at Hogwarts – maybe not even that much – and he interpreted it as being his whole past. He doesn't remember anything about us, and to be honest... I don't know if he ever will. The rage in his eyes... he's lost, Hermione. I don't think we can bring him back."

Hermione thoughtfully began to dust the surface of the coffee table to distract herself from the truth. "I'm afraid I must agree with you, Harry," she said, not daring to meet his gaze because she knew that he would hate her for saying this. "I know you tried your best to bring him back exactly as he was before he left you at Hogwarts, but he has proven that that is impossible. He's turned back into his old self, and to be honest with you I don't want anything to do with _him_."

Harry shot up from the armchair, disgusted and indignated with her. "What? How can you say that, Hermione? You can't be serious about just giving up on him like that!"

She stopped dusting the coffee table and turned to look him in the eyes. The cold determination was plain to read on her face, and he did not like it one bit. "You were about to give up on him yourself just a moment ago," she pointed out simply, "and honestly, after what he did tonight, can you blame me for resenting him? For wishing I had never taken him into my home? For regretting ever to befriend him, even? How can you trust someone like that? He's like a ticking bomb, just waiting to explode under your nose. Maybe it is just best to eliminate him once and for all."

Harry clenched his hands into tight fists. Had to restrain his emotions very carefully not to lash out at her. "You have no right to say that," he whispered with gritted teeth. "Just a moment ago you were on his side – and now all of a sudden you hate him?"

"He tried to kill you, Harry! If he ever tries that again I will use the killing curse on him myself!"

"_He_ _is not himself,_ _dammit!_ _Get that into your_ _sorry little Muggle head!_"

Hermione stumbled backwards, utter shock portrayed on her swiftly blushing face. Harry knew that what he had said had been very unfair and very mean, but he could not find it in himself to regret it or take it back. Instead of waiting for her to tell him what a jerk he was he walked around her with the intention of leaving the apartment. "I'm going out," he said bitterly. "Can't stand it in here."

She did not follow him, but she did reply – and to his suprise she did not seem to be the least angry with him. Hell, she was not even offended by his honest insult. She sounded worried, and slightly frightened. "What...? Wait! Harry! You can't just go like that, you—"

He swirled around to face her anew. "Yeah? Why not?"

Finally displaying some of that offense, she stuck out her chin and said, "You are bloody pathetic if you expect to find him sitting in the street again – because you won't, you know."

Boiling with fury, Harry shouted exactly what he thought at that moment, and hot tears were streaming down his flushed face. "Yeah, so I _am_ pathetic then! But what did you expect, huh? Would you rather me locking myself in the guestroom sniffing the pillows for a chance of detecting his scent on them and going mad from the loss of my soul mate? Do you? No, I didn't think so. Now leave me the fuck alone and let me sulk on my own, alright? I don't need your pity, and I certainly don't need you to tell me what I shouldn't do because I'm perfectly competent of doing so myself. It hurts that you always have to tell me that I'm wrong, Hermione. Maybe it's not so hard to understand why Ron never told you he loved you, is it?"

And with those harsh words, he stormed out of the apartment.

* * *

He was standing in that corridor again, looking back towards the staircases. He had a feeling he should not be there – somebody might catch him. The watch said that it was close to midnight. Maybe he should go a little further down? Maybe he was not visible enough where he now stood? Besides, he _had_ said outside the library, and he was now waiting impatiently in the corridor south of the library. He should move closer.

Yet... he felt somewhat embarrassed. What was he doing there? He was violating every single House vow – not to speak of the school rules about walking around the corridors at night – and if his classmates found out...

The clock ticked past midnight. _Where is he?_ he thought worriedly. _I hope he hasn't been caught, because I really can't risk getting expelled! My father would kill me..._

But then, when he was just about to give up, Potter appeared before him. Struck by surprise, he gave a short shriek. He was well aware of the strangeness of the situation. _Potter?_ He had waited there in the middle of the night to meet up with _Potter_? Why? Was he going to challenge him to a duel again?

"Bloody Hell, you scared me!" he said, but he did not feel as if he was moving his lips by his own free will – someone or something was controlling him, forcing him to say and do certain things that he himself never would have said or done. "Where'd you come from?"

Potter bit his lip and looked very reluctant to tell Draco how he had gotten there so silently, but then he sighed and said, "Oh, what the Hell. I used this." Potter showed him a liquid silver-grey cloth that totally made him lit up with childish wonder. It was an Invisibility Cloak! How long had not he pestered his father about getting him one? Just imagine all the things you could do with an Invisibility Cloak—

—they stepped into a hidden room down in the dungeons, and Potter started to move the furniture around. _That's right_, Draco thought, _this is the room that I found when I was so furious about losing against Potter's Firebolt in Quidditch... but what am I doing here now?_

He got his answer pretty soon. Potter was actually tutoring him in Defense Against the Dark Arts, and Draco instantly knew that it was becuase Professor Umbridge had banned all use of Defense Magic in her classes. Now he felt deep in his soul that he wanted to learn how to defend himself, because he knew that it would be necessary in the future. He also knew instinctively that what he needed to defend himself from was the Death Eaters.

_But that's preposterous!_ he thought. _Why should I need to defend myself against my own people? Are they going to betray me? Is that it?_

The scene shifted. They were still in that same dirty room, but the situation was different, and somehow he knew that several days had passed. He and Potter were lying on the huge cushions on the floor, lazily looking at each other. At first they did not say anything, but when they spoke it became obvious that this was not part of any lesson of theirs; they were discussing whether they should stay or leave.

_Weird_, Draco thought, _why would I want to stay in this filthy old broom closet?_ Then, all of a sudden, Draco leaned in closer and kissed Potter. Warm, happy feelings were swirling through his young body, but at the same time he was yelling at himself to stop, stop, _stop_! What on Earth had come over him?

—they were in someone's bedroom, and Draco did not recognize the place at all, but he did notice that he was in bed with Potter. And it felt good. It felt nice, just lying there next to each other, looking into each other's eyes, talking silently about what a wonderful day it had been... until he kissed him.

Draco was all in for it and kissed him back, snuggling up closer, pressing against the Gryffindor. He realised that they were both aroused, but it did not bother him. He moaned when Potter touched his bare skin, those warm hands on his body... When Potter bit down on his nape he could not sufficiently suppress the cry of pleasure and anticipation that escaped him, and he wanted him to go on, wanted him to touch him more, just keep touching him, oh God, _yes_, he wanted to be touched _there_...

When Potter pushed inside him Draco was washed over by millions of wonderful emotions that completely filled him up, and he was not afraid to cry out his pleasure, because he wanted Potter to know exactly how much he loved it, and when he gazed into those mysterious emerald green eyes, now ablaze with desire, he knew that he had found Heaven. This was exactly how it should be, this was complete and utter bliss... this was love.

—Draco woke with a start, and later he realised that what really had awakened him was his own ecstatic cry. He looked around him as if expecting to be watched by hundreds of people, his cheeks burning with embarrassment.

Or was it really embarrassment?

For a second he could have sworn that he was blushing because of something else that he could not quite remember. But the dream was fresh in his memory, and he hated himself for having it. He was breathing fast, panting. His heart was beating so hard it was almost painful.

And then he noticed the sticky, warmish wet feeling on his crotch. He had released himself sometime during the dream, and that only made him more furious. He had ejaculated while dreaming of having sex with Harry Potter? How sick was that?

Swiftly getting out of bed to change his sticky underwear, he kicked hard into the furniture. "That does it!" he said with gritted teeth. "He is dead meat!"


	19. A Sign

**A Sign**

Harry never wanted to return to that bloody apartment – at least not as long as his best friend did not apologise for trying to curse his boyfriend.

Hermione could be so bloody stubborn! He hated when she started to lecture him about right and wrong and "there is nothing inbetween, so _do_ try to choose the right thing to do!" Man, did she _always_ have to assume that he was just as stupid and fuzzy-minded as an amoeba?

He was going to do this – he was going to get Draco back somehow, and it did not matter if he had her on his side or not, he could just as well do it all on his own. Better to be alone, actually, that way he could really talk to Draco and plead with him to remember. _Oh, please just try_, he thought grimly, _please just try to remember me, baby... that's all I ask. Give me a sign, just a little sign, use your Legilimency skills to tell me how you want it, just send me a tiny little sign and I'll come right away, baby... just give me a sign..._

He slept in a backstreet that night, not worried about mugglers or murderers, and it was the best sleep he had had in a month.

* * *

Draco was going to use all of his power and status as a full-blood wizard to get everything that he wanted and right the little wrongs he had done in his past...

Like getting seduced by Potter, for example. Because regardless of how much he wished to deny it, it must be the truth. His dream had been parts of memories striving to surface, and he figured that as long as he lived his life as a true Malfoy they would stay exactly where they were and never surface again – just the way he wanted it to be.

He was going to take his life back.

"Pansy!" he called when exiting his bedroom in the morning, fully dressed in expensive silk from France. "Pansy, bloody Hell! Get out here _now_!"

He knew that all the Death Eaters had stayed at the Manor over the night, because his father was planning some sort of attack, but the old man had not minded to tell Draco about it. It frustrated him, being kept in the dark like that, because it meant that he still did not trust him. He still thought that he would run off with that half-blood Potter and live happily ever after – _yuck!_ Was not taking the bloody Mark voluntarily enough to convince him that he had no such intentions?

"_PANSYYYYYY!_"

"Yes, what the Hell you yellin' for?" she asked irritably, drowsily rubbing the sleep out of her left eye. She yawned and glared at him angrily.

He grabbed her arm and started to drag her along the hallway. "Pansy, this is your lucky day – you're about to score a Malfoy."

"Wha'?" she asked, still half-asleep. "Splendid."

* * *

"_What?_ You just let him go?" Ron did not believe his ears when he went over to Hermione's to see how Harry was doing with his "greater mission." And to his extreme surprise there had not been any Harry there for him to see.

"Yes! So it was stupid of me, what else is new?" Hermione spat at him and yanked free of his hand. "You're hurting me, Ron."

"Sorry. But maybe you deserve it, 'Minie. I mean, what were you thinking? For all we know he could be wandering the streets in hope of being knocked into a pulp or something! Or what if he went straight to the Death Eaters? What if he even _begged_ for them to take his life, huh?"

"I know, I know, I know! Shut up already, will you? You don't need to remind me that I made a bloody mistake letting him go, okay?"

"Oh, but it's okay for you to tell _everyone else_ about every single mistake they make?" he stated sceptically. "You always take all the prizes, Hermione, you really do."

"Oh, come off it, Ron! As if you never did anything wrong! You're starting to sound awfully much like Harry..."

"Thank you."

Hermione let out a long moan of irritation and frustration. "Why do I have to get stuck with you? Why does the only person in the world who seems to love me have to be _you_? And why do I have to love you back? You're stupid and annoying, that's what you are! I simply hate the sight of you, and I can't stand all those little noises you make when you eat – not to mention the way you always fail at everything you do. So why on Earth do I have to love you? Can you answer me that?"

Ron just stared at her blankly. Blinked a few times. Her words did not seem to want to go in. Who had said anything about love? They were talking about Harry's disappearance, and then...

"Erm, Hermione... I don't mean to be rude or anything, but this is hardly the time to discuss something as trivial as that. I don't know how you feel about this, but I would really like to find Harry before we commit to anything else – is that okay with you?"

She did not meet his eyes, but she at least nodded slowly. "Where do we start?"


	20. The End

**The End**

Late that afternoon, Harry received his answer. Evidently, Draco _had_ tuned in on his mental message and by way of his Legilimency skills he now said: _Come to the Manor_. Happy and thrilled that he finally got some sort of response from his boyfriend he went straight away, not a thought in his mind that this might be a trap. He only cared about bringing Draco home.

Because they had a home now. Just three hours earlier he had received a phone call from the real estate agency; they had got their apartment. If everything went well, they would be living together in just two weeks. And until then... well, they could stay at the Leaky Cauldron or something, because he never wanted to live with Hermione again.

Despite their being close friends ever since their first year at Hogwarts he simply could not forgive her for what she had said about Draco. If she could not accept his relationship with the Malfoy heir, then she could just go to Hell. Literally.

When he got to the Manor, everything was still and quiet. Too quiet. He did not like it at all, yet he kept going. He even called out to Draco a few times – without receiving any answer, of course. The downstairs was completely deserted, so he decided to go upstairs and have a look around there. Maybe he could find some kind of clue as to where Draco was.

Maybe he _had_ tried to see Harry but been seized by the Death Eaters again. Maybe he had started to remember more than he currently wanted to remember and needed to ask Harry about it. But in that case... why had he asked him to come to the Manor only to leave it before he arrived? It was somewhat spooky, actually.

He walked down the long hallway on the second floor, anxiously looking back over his shoulder every ten strides to see if anyone was following him. A door was ajar at the end of the hallway, and he was compelled to learn what was hidden behind it, even though it was stupid since it was such an obvious trap. He was just... drawn to it. As if someone had put a huge magnet in there and had it set to "POTTER."

Two steps from the doorway, he stopped. Listened for sounds in the early evening. Nothing. Taking a deep breath, he steeled himself and crossed the threshold. One look at the room and he knew that it was Draco's. Everything was in neat order – but certainly not because he cleaned it obsessively himself, but because he probably had a score of servants doing the job for him – and state of the art. Harry had never seen so many objects used for Dark magic before. And all the books! Shelves after shelves crammed full of them – and all of them about dark magic! Who on Earth had he fallen in love with?

As Harry strode around the room, looking at everything, daring to touch only a few items, he wondered if this was a person capable of change. If it was indeed a person worth saving. But then he hit himself on the forehead, persistently telling himself that this was the old Draco, and he was not like that anymore. Or... at least he _should not_ be like that anymore.

Oh, why did everything have to be so bloody confusing and complex?

Suddenly he noticed a piece of parchment lying on the bedspread, as if it had been waiting for him. Curious, he picked it up and unfolded it.

_"Potter – I challenge you to a wizard duel.  
__If you win, I promise you I'll come with you  
__and listen to everything you have to say. I  
__will even let you do anything you want to me  
__if you think that will help me 'remember.'  
__Just come alone – or else..._

_Draco"_

Harry stared at the note. Hesitated. It was a trap. Draco Malfoy had never engaged in a fair game, so he could probably expect a lot of foul play in this duel. Yet... he could not just walk away from it and forget all about it, not now. He had to give it a try. Below the short message was the name of a place, most likely the place Draco had chosen for their duel.

And he was right. But Draco was not alone; he had Pansy with him, and his old cronies Crabbe and Goyle. They were all on broomsticks, hovering about two yards above ground, their feet pretty much in line with his forehead. Boldly, he looked up at them. "Come down from there, Malfoy, and let's have an honest battle."

Draco smirked scornfully at him. "No, why would we have that? That was just the bait, Potter. I never wanted to have any duel with you – I just wanted you to come here so I could kill you."

Harry's eyes narrowed. "Then why not kill me at the Manor? Why bring me here?"

They all laughed. "And smudge all our expensive furniture and carpets with your filthy blood? I don't think so, Potter. No, I want you dead on this very ground where I can just leave you and never have to worry about you ever again."

Harry felt chills travelling down his spine. This was not how it was supposed to go... This was not how it was supposed to end...

"But... But Dracums... I thought you loved me," he heard himself say, and felt pathetic for uttering those stupid, naïve words. "I thought we had something special..."

Draco laughed maliciously again. "Really, Potter... If I loved you, would I have slept with Pansy then?"

Harry's eyes widened with shock. "Wha-what?"

"Yes, that's right," Draco said, a self-satisfied smug sneer on his lips. "I'm with Pansy now, and she's by far a better lover than I imagine you could have been – though I have no recollections of it, I have to admit. Sorry to disappoint you, Potter. I know how much you were hoping for me to get all squeamish and come running back to you – although I'm not very sure that I ever came running to you in the first place..."

"But you did!" Harry protested. "You _did_ love me! And it's not your fault that you don't remember! It was your father, Draco! He was the one who ordered the Obliviation Charm – not me! I'm only trying to help you remember!"

Suddenly Draco's grey eyes seemed to turn jet black with fury. "Shut up, half-blood. You don't know what you're talking about. Don't push it – I might give you a more painful death..."

He was interrupted by two loud _Pop!_s that stirred the still evening air. Harry turned around in bafflement and found Ron and Hermione standing a few yards away, stern expressions on their faces. "It's all right, Harry," Ron said with a determination unusual for him, "we're here to support you and help you if you get in any trouble."

"Ah, Weasley!" Draco exclaimed, pleased. "Perfect timing, as usual. Too bad you popped up in the wrong place at the wrong time." Then, cold-heartedly and utterly indifferently, he raised his wand and uttered the worst of the Unforgivable Curses: the Avada Kedavra curse, the only curse that actually killed. When the green light had hit Ron hard in the chest and the redhead had fallen down dead in front of them, Draco simply yawned and said that he was bored.

Harry could not believe his eyes. This was not happening, _this was not happening_, it was a dream – yeah, it had to be. And when he woke up in the morning he would find Draco in his arms, sleeping soundly, not a worry on his face, just peaceful, and all of this would have just been an awful nightmare and everything would be back to normal. Right? _Right?_

Shaking, he took a step towards Draco. "How could you?" he asked, his chest hurting so bad he could hardly stand up. "How _could_ you?"

That superior smirk was back on the blonde's lips; mocking him. "Accept it, Potter," he said, "I'm not the person you want me to be. And if my words aren't enough to convince you of that I suggest you take a good look at this." He pulled up the sleeve of his expensive silk shirt and revealed a fresh, strongly burning Dark Mark – the mark of Lord Voldemort, the mark of the Death Eaters.

Harry flinched. Stumbled backwards. It was as if he had been slapped in the face – hard. For a few seconds nothing else seemed to exist except the black skull with the tongue of a serpent on Draco's pale arm, but soon he got aware of Hermione's agonised screaming. She was bent over Ron, crying and cursing Draco for killing him, but Harry could not bring himself to feel sorry for her. Her loss did not by any means measure up to his.

Maybe it was cruel of him to think that, but that was how he felt. Neither did he feel anything when Draco directed the same curse at Hermione. Now both his friends were dead – and he did not feel a thing. He was not sorry for it. Not one bit. He knew he should scream in agony like Hermione had done, but there was no scream inside him. There was just a hollow nothingness that seemed to consume him slowly, slowly, leaving only an empty shell behind.

He had lost all the people he had ever cared about: his parents, Sirius, Ron, Hermione... Draco.

No, wait. He had not lost Draco. Not yet. There was still something he could do to prove himself to his lover, and even though it was utterly insane Harry thought it seemed perfect and even logical to do so.

Without further hesitation – hurrying to speak up before Draco used the Avada Kedavra curse on him as well – he straightened his back, and said, "Take me with you. I want to be a Death Eater. Then at least I would be close to you, even if you didn't love me back. I just want to be close to you, Draco."

Draco stared at him in disbelief at first, but then he sneered gleefully. "What about your loyal little friends, Potter? What about your fan club?"

Harry swallowed hard. "You've already killed them, Draco. I've lost everyone – except you. Please, just let me have this one wish. Don't kill me. Take me back to the Manor and make me a Death Eater, just like you. That's all I ask. Wouldn't being evil be a worse punishment for me than death?"

Malfoy thought it over for a while, thoughtfully scratching his chin. Pansy was yelling at him not to listen to Harry, "just _kill him_!" But to Harry's relief, Draco nodded. "Okay. You can come with us. I'll tell my father to prepare the ceremony – you can wait in my room."

And that was what happened. Harry sat on Draco's bed, anxiously waiting for them to prepare the ceremony that would make him a Death Eater. He was going to betray his whole kind and convert to the dark side – but that was an acceptable sacrifice for love, Harry thought. And even if Draco never regained his memory, he would at least have the privilige to stand by his side in the upcoming war, a dream of his since the end of their fifth year, when their relationship had started to get really serious. He just would not be standing on the side that he had imagined...

Draco appeared in the doorway. "We are ready for you now," he informed ceremoniously, and escorted Harry back down to the huge den. All the other Death Eaters, and even Voldemort himself, were gathered, standing in a wide circle in the middle of the room, and Harry never suspected anything fishy going on when Draco instructed him to stand in the middle of the circle, all the others facing him.

Not until Draco withdrew his wand from his trousers and pointed it straight at Harry's chest.

With the same self-righteous, superior smirk that had always annoyed Harry in the old days, he said, "Did you really think that we would make you one of us? You're no true Death Eater – you don't have what it takes. Sorry to tell you this, Potter, but we don't need you. Enjoy your stay in Hell – I'm sure I'll see you there someday."

And with a cold, vicious laugh, he uttered the killing curse.

* * *

**A/N: **Actually, this was the original end, and this was supposed to be the _final_ end to this story, I was really happy with how it turned out. But when my friend Mari-chan read it she almost strangled mewith fury. She commanded me to "fix the story", either by changing the end or writing an additional chapter to make up for this one. So I decided, all right; I'll write an _alternative_ end to the story. And that became "Memory Loss Revisited" – which, like I said, was only meant to be an alternative ending and not even regarded as part of the story. 

But after a few weeks I started to ponder the thought of making yet another continuation, and eventually I wrote "As dark as it gets." It's a direct continuation from "Memory Loss Revisited" – and the fun thing is, it doesn't even end there. I've just kept writing, and the story still isn't finished. Right now I've written over 45 longer parts (_Memory Loss_ was originally 5 longer parts, but I later divided them into shorter chapters) – and there are many more to come.

Funny how a story that was meant to be so short could develop into a freaking novel...:P


	21. Memory Loss Revisited

**A/N:** Here is _Memory Loss Revisited_ in its whole. Much longer than any of the preceding chapters, so I hope you can bear with me through this one too. ;) Thank you for reading and thank you so, so much for all your comments and reviews! Doumo arigatou gozaimashita. :D

* * *

**Memory Loss Revisited**

He was still alive. Amazing. How could that be? The Avada Kedavra curse was supposed to kill everything that it hit in just a fraction of a second; there was no known cases of survival. Except for one small boy who sixteen years ago came out of it alive with only a scar on his forehead. And here he had done it again – The Boy Who Lived.

He was still alive. _Alive_. Weak and slashed, sure, but alive. The scar on his forehead was bleeding, but not much. His breathing was pained and his emerald eyes shimmery with tears. Although he evidently did not possess the strength to pull himself up from the floor he managed to raise his head and look at Draco.

A flash of pain shot through him.

"Do you know why I fell in love with you?" he asked the blond boy with a weak and bitter smile on his cracked lips.

Draco stood immobile, suddenly paralysed by fear.

What had he done? He had almost killed his lover.

And suddenly everything came back to him – their Defense Against the Dark Arts lessons in the dungeons, their first kiss, the reactions of their classmates when they announced their relationship, how Ron and Hermione became his friends, summer break at the Dursleys' and Harry's birthday, the first time they made love, Christmas Holidays at the Burrow, his becoming a Gryffindor... and his decision to return to the Manor to try to talk some sense into his father.

How on Earth could he have forgotten about all that? It was the two most precious years of his _entire life_ – and he had forgotten about them! And that was not all that he had done... He had killed Harry's best friends intentionally, in cold blood, and now he had almost killed Harry too...

"It's because you never judged me," Harry answered his own question.

His head fell back down on the floor; the raven-haired boy was too weak to hold it up any longer. A last sigh of warmish air escaped the ex-Gryffindor before his eyes closed and he became still.

Draco waited for him to move again, to open his eyes and look up at him anew, or at least for him to utter his name in the midst of a feverish, unconscious dream – but nothing. Harry stayed still on the floor, not a limb moving, not _nothing_. The fear rose in Draco anew, but not just fear this time, but sorrow, pain – _agony_. And loss.

Acting on an impulse born out of sheer despair, he kneeled beside Harry's limp body and put his forehead on the other boy's back. "No!" he yelled. "No! You can't die on me! You can't die on me, dammit! I won't let you! Do you hear me, Potter? _I won't let you_..."

His last words became a mere whisper as the fear and the sorrow created a huge lump in his throat. Crying, he clung to Harry, desperately clutching Harry's shoulders, and the tears spotted the raven-haired boy's jumper.

Until then, the Death Eaters had all been quiet, watching in astonishment at this new development, but as soon as it became clear that Draco the traitor had returned from the bottom of his amnesia, they began to move in on him. "How dare you cry over that half-blood?" Pansy was shrieking, beside herself with anger, but Draco only heard the echo of her scream inside his by sorrow twisted head.

They had made him a murderer. They had made him kill his own lover, his Harry... and they had to pay for it. Resolute and deranged by agony and loss he stood up, his right hand tightly closed around his wand, and with a primeval cry of rage he pointed it at them all and screamed:

"_AVADA KEDAVRA!_"

A blast of green light bigger than anything he had ever seen before shot out of the wand and hit the Death Eaters closest to him and sent them flying across the room, falling down dead like flies a good twenty feet away. The emotional chaos within him enabled him to summon all of the powers that he possessed, and the curse became stronger than it should have been. At least thirty Death Eaters were killed in one go, and when almost as many remained after the last traces of smoggy greenish smoke had evaporised, Draco shouted it again: "_AVADA KEDAVRA! AVADA KEDAVRA! AVADA KEDAVRA, YOU BASTARDS!_"

He just kept shouting and shouting and shouting and shouting and shouting and shouting until there was nothing left in him to shout, until nothing remained of his voice but a faint wheezing. And only then did he lower his arm and calm down. The wand fell to the floor with a woody clinking. Shaking, he looked at the mess before him.

Sixty-seven dead Death Eaters lay scattered in the parlour, and they all had the same surprised expression on their malicious faces. Panting, he dropped to his knees beside Harry's body, too weak to stand up.

He had killed them. He had killed them all.

The eyes of his father stared at him from a distance of three yards. It had taken him some time, but at last he had succeeded to complete the task for which he had left Harry on their graduation day, but he felt no satisfaction over it. It did not matter anymore, because Harry was dead – and _he_ had killed him.

_How am I going to be able to live with myself?_ he thought grimly. _How can I live with myself after this? I killed them all. I killed them. Harry, Hermione, Ron... I killed them all._

He looked at Harry. Still hoped that his lover would open his eyes and grant him with a loving look, say his name, smile... anything. He still hoped that he would get up from the floor, not hurt at all, but he remained still.

_Oh my God... he's dead. He's dead. And he will never come back to me. I killed him. He's dead..._

With true affection he lifted up Harry and carried him up the stairs, holding him close to his chest, chanting quietly to himself: "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to, you know I didn't mean to, I never wanted to hurt you, I am so sorry, but everything is going to be alright now, everything will be all right, I promise I'll make everything right, somehow, it's over now, baby, there will be no more attacks, no more pain, it's over, I killed them, the Death Eaters are dead, they won't come after us again, baby, it's all over now and everything will be all right..."

Over and over again he repeated those words, speaking faster and faster for every step he took up the stairs, held Harry even closer. He imagined that he could feel the body heat leaving Harry's body at a crazy rate, but it must have been a hallucination because no-one could go cold that quickly.

When he reached his room he put Harry on the bed, very carefully, afraid that he might break something, and then he gently put Harry's hands over his chest to make him look more peaceful. A faint smile came to his lips. It was perfect. He had given his lover the last dignity and at least presented him with some peace.

Draco bent down and kissed Harry's forehead. "I'm sorry it had to end like this, Harry," he said with new tears in the corners of his eyes, "but at least I got them. I got them all. I made them pay for what they did to us." He rose from the bed and gave his lover one last look. "Now I just have to get rid of them before anyone notices them down there. I'll be back in a short while, baby."

As if sleepwalking, he went back downstairs and began to magically remove the bodies of the dead Death Eaters. He worked quickly and efficiently, like a robot. All his feelings had been numbed the moment he carried Harry's body upstairs, because the shock of his lover's death had cast him straight into denial. He did not want to acknowledge what had just happened, because as long as he denied it it could not hurt him. And he convinced himself that it would not be true unless he admitted it to be true. If he pretended that it had never happened, Harry would be alive when he went back up to his room, and they would finally be reunited.

_Reunited._

Forever...

* * *

She rose with a lot of effort. Every single muscle in her body ached, but nothing seemed to be broken and she did not seem to have any other injuries. Just a few bruises, which she had got when she fell to the ground. Her right elbow was slightly scraped.

She gazed at her surroundings. They were still in that field, but they were alone. She sat up and put an elbow in Ron's side. "Hey, Ron! Wake up!" she demanded. "They're gone."

Ron moaned beside her. He was more bruised than she was, and his left arm was broken. "What happened?" he asked as he sat up beside her.

"It worked!" Hermione exclaimed satisfactory.

"Wha' worked?"

"The potion! You know, the Protection Potion we took in case Draco would hit us with the death curse. It worked – we're still alive!"

Ron jerked and flew up to his feet. "That bastard cursed us! He nearly _killed_ us, for bloody Christ's sake! When I get my hands on him I'll... Hey, where's Harry?"

He only then realised that one of them was missing.

Hermione frowned. "I think Draco brought him back to the Manor," she said with conviction.

"What? Why would he do that? If he really wished to kill us, why bother to take Harry back home with him first? Did he invite him over for tea first?"

"I don't know, but I don't like it," Hermione said. She reached for her wand. "We need to get back to my apartment and get some more potion."

Ron gave her a frightened look. "You're not suggesting we go to the Manor, are you?" he pleaded.

"No. I think we need help."

"Help? Really, you think? From who, if I may ask?"

She was silent for a long while before answering. "There is only one person who knows the old Draco better than anyone else. Piper."

* * *

Draco's older sister was mighty surprised to see Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley step into her office at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and since she had always found it hard to hide her feelings her utter astonishment was plain to read on her face. "Hey! What are you guys doing here? I thought you graduated a month ago!"

"Yes, we did," Hermione informed her authoritatively, "but we need your help."

Piper instantly returned to her usual charismatic self and fired a broad smile at them. "Oh, really? Well, in that case you have come to the right person! There is nothing I can't do with a little magic!"

"Can you turn back time?"

Once again Piper was dumbstruck. "Turn back time? Why would you need to turn back time? I would have thought you were in your prime or something right now!"

"We are," Ron hurried to say, "but it's just that Draco—"

"Ron, wait," Hermione interrupted. "I wasn't serious when I asked if she could turn back time, it was simply a way for me to express my helplessness in this situation."

Ron blinked. "Oh. I see."

"You have a situation?" Piper inquired, confused.

"Yes," Hermione admitted. "Draco lost his memory. Or, well, your father had someone erase it, rather. When Harry found out he decided to do everything in his power to bring the Draco that we know back, and he really tried hard – harder than anyone else would ever have the patience to try – but something went wrong and the old Draco returned. Only this time he is twice as cruel as he once used to be. He used the Avada Kedavra curse on us, but since we took some of your Protection Potion we came out of it with just a few bruises."

"_Hello_!" Ron protested angrily and indicated his broken arm.

Hermione sighed irritatedly. "Okay, _I_ came out of it with a few bruises and Ron broke his arm."

"Excuse me, _I_ didn't break it – Draco did!"

"Whatever. So, can you help us, Piper?"

Grinning, Piper stood up. "Of course I can! Be back in a snap!"

She instantly Apparated to the Manor to go look for Draco. She figured that he must know where Harry was, even if he did not want to befriend the young mister Potter in his current state of mind.

What she found was a mess worse than anything she could have imagined; men in black capes were scattered all over the floor, at least _thirty_ of them! And right in the middle of all this was Draco – but he did not at all seem to be the least bit cruel and cold-hearted. He looked so small, so vulnerable, that she felt an urge to embrace him and comfort him. He was currently holding their father's left leg in both his hands, obviously on his way to discard of the body.

She took a few steps towards her baby brother. "Draco, what in the world are you doing? And what did you do to all these people? Did you kill them?"

When he spotted Piper, he let go of Lucius's leg and just stood there staring at her. His grey eyes were completely expressionless; not a single emotion was conveyed in their silvery surfaces. It scared her, because this was not the brother that she knew. Something significant had changed about him since she last saw him.

"They were evil, Piper," he said in a low, robotic voice.

She looked at the dead men anew. Noticed that several of them bore the mark of Lord Voldemort. "I can certainly see your point," she said, "but was that really a reason to go through with _this_ slaughter?"

"Yes. I did it for Harry."

The mentioning of Harry's name made her lock gazes with him again, and for the first time since she arrived she detected some kind of feeling in his features. For a while, his voice had trembled and a dark shadow had travelled over the surfaces of his silver eyes. "What about Harry?" she asked. "Where is he? Hermione wants you to give him back."

Draco stumbled backwards a few steps. He looked as if he had been slapped in the face. "What did you say? But that's impossible – Hermione's dead. I killed her. She's..."

Piper swiftly shook her head. "No, she's very much alive. She and Ron used my Protection Potion just in case you decided to use a certain _curse_. And you did, didn't you? Hell, by the look of this room I'd say you've used it enough for three whole lifetimes!"

Neither of them laughed.

Draco lowered his eyes in shame. "I'm glad to hear that, but unfortunately I can't bring him back to them. I... I killed him."

Piper was so astonished to hear those words come out of her brother's mouth that she actually fell to the floor. "Say what?"

"I killed him. Hit him with the Avada Kedavra curse just half an hour ago. He... he was still alive when the smoke evaporated... he spoke to me... He asked me if I knew why he fell in love with me, and then I remembered everything. I had forgotten _everything_... I thought I was doing the right thing, thought I was acting of my own accord, but I was in fact under their spell all the time. _They_ made me do this. _They_ made me kill him, and they had to pay."

When Piper saw the sorrow in his eyes she went to him and put her arms around him. "Oh, Drakie, I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry... I wish you wouldn't have had to go through this."

"So do I. But Piper... is there nothing you can do to change this? To prevent this? You're the most skilled witch in the entire world – you can even give _Dumbledore_ a run for his money! Please, Piper... if there is anything you can do, then please do it. I don't care what it is. I just want him back."

She was very reluctant to return to her office at Hogwarts with such bad news, and she felt as if a part of her died when Hermione burst out in hysterical tears. Ron did his best to soothe her. They were getting real close, those two. The only thing that kept Piper's spirits up at that moment was the belief that she could fix it.

She gave them both a meaning look, and then she said, "You still want me to turn back time?"

* * *

He was so still, but not even death could take away his natural beauty. Some parents he must have had who gave him that thick, lustrous raven hair and those sparkling green eyes, the playful smile that so often came to his cherry lips, that even baby smooth skin... Parents who had loved him enough to save his life and only give him that scar. Funny how it now seemed to be a cheap price to pay for one's life... Not losing his parents, of course, but to be left with nothing but a lightning-shaped scar... and it was so sexy, too.

Draco sat there with him for what seemed to be an eternity and wondered at the perfectness of his Harry. Everything that he could have had if the Death Eaters had not cheated him of it... Theirs would have been a perfect future, a perfect life. How could anything be less than perfect with Harry? He was ethereal, spirited... life with Harry must be Utopia.

Sighing deeply, Draco rose from the bed anew and went over to the window. Looking out over the vast Malfoy grounds, he said, "Don't worry, baby. Piper will make you well again. Somehow..."

Something stirred behind him and elicited a crisp, rustling sound.

"_D... Dracums_..."

Draco went rigid. A solitary tear glimmered in his left eye. Sweet disillusionment. Now he imagined hearing Harry's voice, too. Maybe he needed a long-term resort at St Mungo's when all this was over. Yeah, he would commit himself first thing in the morning. But first he needed to find the perfect spot to bury his beloved Harry. He deserved nothing but the best, the most beautiful hill, flowers, trees...

Coughing. _Behind_ him. More crisp rustling, and he recognised it as the sound of fresh sheets. The rustling. His bed. _No..._

"_Dra... Draco... why... ¤cough¤_..."

Somehow he found the strength in his heart to turn around and look at the bed, and when he saw Harry's wonderful, lovely emerald eyes looking back at him he cried out in bewildered joy and ran up to him, threw himself down on top of him and locked his arms around his neck. And then the most wonderful thing happened.

Harry laughed.

It was only a half-choked chuckle, vague because of his dry, raspy throat, but still enough of a laugh to make Draco guffaw with happiness and relief.

Harry put his hands on Draco's back. "Does this mean that you're finally back with me?" he asked, and his voice was merely a faint whisper, hardly audible.

But Draco heard, O, how he heard him! Those were the most wonderful words he had ever heard in his entire life. He placed a hard, wet kiss on Harry's dry cheek. "Yes, yes, yes, I'm back, I'm back, baby, and I'm _never_ going to leave you again, never! I am so sorry, so sorry..."

"_Sssch_..." Harry patted his back.

"I'm sorry, I don't understand how I could do that to you, I don't... I don't understand how I could have let it go so far... I mean... I could have _killed _you!" And that reminded him. "How come you didn't die? How could you survive a curse that strong and powerful _twice_?"

He partly let go of Harry in order to lift his head and meet the raven-haired boy's gaze. The mystery in those deep green ponds intrigued him.

Harry smiled. "It's easy, really. The first time, when Voldemort tried to curse me – oh, come on, Dracums, don't tell me that you're afraid of his name too! – my Mum protected me with her love. She sacrificed her own life to save me, and that selfless sacrifice still function as a kind of protection for me. Not big enough to save me again, of course. This time, when I understood that you were going to curse me... Well, I realised that that would be the only way for you to regain your memory, so I let you do it. Making you remember me – ensuring the best life there is for you – was all I cared about, it was my deepest wish. So I sacrificed myself for you in order to make you remember, and evidently that had the same effect as my mother's love had sixteen years ago."

Draco gently caressed Harry's forehead, his index finger resting on the scar. "I caused you so much suffering... so much pain... and yet you sacrificed yourself for me," he whispered, utterly blank. "Why?"

"Well, isn't it obvious? I love you, Draco. I want the best for you, and as long as I know that you're okay it doesn't matter if I am."

Draco's eyes were watering again. It became difficult to see; he could only make out hazy, liquid shapes in the gloom of the bedroom. "But I... but I tried to kill you... twice... how can you do something like that for me when I tried to kill you _twice_?"

Harry laughed and roughled Draco's fly-away hair. "Idiot, that doesn't matter! You were under the influence of a spell – I knew it wasn't your original self who tried to kill me. You would never do such a thing."

Draco stood up. "I love you, Harry. I don't deserve this. Hell, I don't deserve _you_, for crying out loud! Not when I have _this_!" He pulled up the sleeve of his shirt and exposed the Mark. It was as strong as ever on his pale arm, and Draco hated himself for taking it.

He had allowed Harry to change him and to coo him over to the good side – and he had stepped right back to the dark one. "I'm a Dark Wizard now, you can't change that. Neither can I. I don't deserve you, Harry. You should go to Ron and Hermione and help them realise that they are meant for each other instead, you're just wasting your time with me."

"And that comes from someone who just killed over sixty Death Eaters along with his former best friends simply to avenge little _moi_?"

"I went berserk, 's all. And it didn't feel good."

"See, that's a sign that you're not really dark – a dark wizard would never feel guilty about anything, certainly not something as trivial as murder."

Harry's humourous arguments were actually making Draco feel better. "Okay, I see where you're going. You won't ever let me get away, will you? You won't ever give up on me, will you?"

"Never!" Harry emphasised. "I made a promise, didn't I?"

"Good. That's exactly what I wanted to hear. Now, let me help you with that awful scar."

"Awful now, is it? I thought you found my scar incredibly sexy..."

"I do, but not when it's bleeding."

"Then please wash it for me," Harry demanded teasingly.

Draco went to the bathroom to collect a few tissues and some hot water.

* * *

"Remember the rules, Ron: We _can't_ be seen by anyone else than Harry!" Hermione repeated several times as they stealed through the corridors of Hogwarts, on their guard for wandering students.

Ron sighed and rolled his eyes at her. "Didn't Piper say that we mustn't be seen by _anybody_?" he corrected her.

"Of course she did! But how do you expect us to warn Harry if he can't see us?"

"Don't ask me – he's the one with the Invisibility Cloak."

"This is no time for jokes, Ron."

"I'm not joking. I'm dead serious."

"I hate you."

"That's not what I heard only a few hours ago..."

"Oh, shut up!"

They knew exactly where to find Harry; he was in his dorm, packing up the last of his possessions and getting ready for the graduation ceremony. For some reason he had become utterly aware of his appearance since he started to date Draco, and on such a special day he wanted to look extra good for his boyfriend. Ron had never understood it, but he guessed he was okay with it. They also knew that no-one else had been in there with him, because when they had come to get him he had been alone and said that he had been so for a whole hour. Therefore it was safe for them to confront him at that very time. No-one would disturb them.

"Harry!"

Harry jumped and turned around to face them. He had been bent over his trunk, examining something with an absent-minded look on his face. Now he hastily put it back in the trunk. "Er, hi," he said quite nervously, "what are you doing here? I thought you were going to help Ginny..."

"We are," Hermione said before she could stop herself. "Or, rather, we _were_. Anyway, there is something that we need to discuss with you..."

Harry frowned. "Discuss? On graduation day?"

"Yes. It's about Draco."

A shadow passed over Harry's face the instant she mentioned his lover. Concern coloured his face a dull grey. "What about him? Something happen?"

"No, no, no," Ron was quick to protest, "not yet, anyway..."

The frown on Harry's forehead deepened into a scowl.

"What Ron's trying to say is... we're from the future." Oh, could it have come out more wrong?

Harry stared at them for several seconds, then he started to laugh. "From the future? Yeah, right. Funny, that one. Almost got me there."

"But it's no joke, Harry!" Hermione objected desperately. "We really _are_ from the future! Remember the Time Turner that McGonagall gave me? Well, something happened in the future that made me wish that I hadn't returned it, and... I probably shouldn't tell you this because it's never good to know too much about one's own future, but since it's for your own survival..."

"Hermione, I really don't understand a word you're saying. What's this urgent thing that makes you say all these incredible things? And what does it have to do with Draco?"

"You can't let Draco go to the Manor all by himself, Harry, the Death Eaters will be there waiting for him and you do not want to see the consequences of that, believe me! Please, Harry, it is crucial that you do as I say. You have to stop him – don't let him go."

When she had finished her plea, Harry stared at them as if they were both insane. Then he slowly shook his head. "You guys are just something. Now would you excuse me, I have loads to pack before we leave on the Hogwarts Express."

Amazed at this, neither of them reacted to Harry's shoving them out of the room to have some privacy while packing his paraphernalia. When they finally snapped out of their paralysis it was too late to stop him. "Can you believe it?" Ron said exasperatedly.

"Actually... I can," Hermione surprised him by saying. "Do you remember what he said when we went up there to get him on the real graduation day?"

"No, not really..."

"He said: 'Why did you change your clothes?'. And later he said, 'Some jokes you pull nowadays, Ron. Just surprises me that you got Hermione in on it this time.' Neither of us understood what he meant back then, but now I understand perfectly well. This mission was doomed to fail from the beginning – we were never meant to stop Draco from going. All those times when I used the Time Turner in our third year... everything that I did the second time, so to speak, happened even the first time. Do you understand what I'm saying, Ron?"

"Er... no."

"When Harry and I used the Time Turner to save Sirius from the Dementors, and Professor Lupin turned into a werewolf, did you by any chance hear another werewolf cry that night?"

"Yeah, but what does that have to—"

"That was me imitating a werewolf. Yes, I know, I was standing right there next to you, and Harry was too, so I couldn't possibly have imitated a werewolf. But at the same time Harry and I was in another part of the forest, you know, after using the Time Turner, and I cried to Lupin to prevent him from attacking you. That's why he ran off like that. He came after us instead. Do you see now, Ron? Even though we hadn't gone back in time yet when Lupin turned into that werewolf there still was a cry from another 'werewolf' that beckoned him away from us – the cry that I made _after_ going back in time. That's the mystery of things. If we had succeeded to warn Harry properly tonight Draco never would have gone to the Manor, and none of that would have happened. We haven't changed anything."

"I actually think I understand... and I know what I have to do, too."

Hermione knitted her eyebrows. "Ron, why are you looking like that?" she asked cautiously.

Ron clenched his hands. "I have to kill Malfoy."

Hermione gasped. "What? Are you out of your mind?"

"He killed Harry, didn't he? Well, then it's only fair that I kill him, right? The world is better off once we've rid it of that monster. He'll just keep on killing anyone who's not a wealthy pure-blood."

Hermione sighed. "I guess you're right. But only if it's in self-defence – I don't want you to get us arrested by the Ministry."

"Oh, so you're going with me, then?"

"Of course I am, someone needs to make sure that you don't dismember yourself on the way."

* * *

Draco carefully washed Harry's wounds and tended to the bleeding scar, and when all that was done he sat down on the bed and gently put Harry's head in his lap. Tenderly, lovingly he stroked Harry's hair, their gazes locked. No words needed to be spoken, because they both understood perfectly well what the other wished to say.

The bonds between them had been re-established as if they never had been severed in the first place, and it was wonderful to just be sitting there, doing nothing, just being together again...

A shriek interrupted their silent adoration. When Draco looked up he expected to find Hermione Granger standing there, but the person in the doorway was in fact Ronald Weasley. That was actually kind of amusing, because he screamed like a girl. "Hey there," Harry said without getting up from the bed. "You're looking well for someone who died three hours ago."

The shock of seeing them together had rendered Ron both speechless and motionless. It did not take long before Hermione appeared next to him, though, she too very much alive. "Eeeek! What are you doing?" she yelled.

"What does it look like?" Harry asked, feigning astonishment when actually he was laughing inside. Draco could hear his silent laughter as if he had actually laughed out loud. "We're getting re-acquainted with one another."

"But, but you... he killed you... Piper told us..."

Harry shook his head.

"I thought he was dead," Draco admitted silently and shamefully. "I mean, it _was_ the Avada Kedavra curse, after all... but he wasn't. He came back to me."

"It was just like with my mother," Harry explained to his friends. "I sacrificed myself for Draco, and somehow that prevented the curse from finishing me. I got injured, of course, but it could've been much worse. The only thing that's changed is my scar's got an extra zag to the zig."

They looked closer at him. "Yeah, you're right," Ron said, "it _is_ bigger."

"But what about the Death Eaters?" Hermione prodded.

"Draco killed them," Harry said proudly. "When he thought I was dead he went berserk because he wanted to avenge me. Killed sixty-seven of 'em all on his own, including Lucius Malfoy himself. I think he's made up for taking the Mark now."

"Yes, indeed you have, little brother," Piper said, suddenly stepping out of the shadows in one of the corners of Draco's room. "And I'm here to take it off your hands – or, rather, your arm."

Draco looked at her in surprise. "You can do that?"

"Of course I can! There is nothing I can't do with a little magic! I've even created a little spell for this speciel occasion: 'From the source of malice, erase what has been dark, return to the Dark Lord's palace, this un-wished-for Mark.' " With those words uttered, Piper waved her wand and the Mark on Draco's arm magically disappeared.

They all stared disbelieving at it.

Piper applauded herself. "Well, I guess that's our cue! Come on, Wonnie-Lonnie and Minie-Hiny, let's scram and leave these two lovebirds to get 're-acquainted.' "

She swooped them away in a cloud of purple smoke – anything for the dramatical effect of it all.

Once they had left, Draco turned to Harry. Smiling broadly, he put his lips on Harry's. "How about we try out this bed? Never used it together before..."

Harry returned his kiss. "Sounds like a brilliant idea, Drakie-poops."

* * *

**A/N:** All right, so what do you think? Did I fix the bad end good enough? LOL. Well, for those of you who liked this story I have good news! It is not over yet! But if you want to continue reading you have to move on to another story, namely _As dark as it gets_. The first chapter is already up, so go straight to my page and click onto it now! That is a command, bwahahaha! (And don't forget to review.) 

Thank you so much for reading this, all of you, and thanks for all the comments/reviews too. :D /paipu-chan.


	22. As dark as it gets, part 1

**As dark as it gets**

**Rating:** R/NC-17  
**Pairing:** H/D  
**Disclaimer:** All the characters belong to J.K. Rowling  
Exception: I have created a few characters of my own, and they are Piper, Tom and the mystery boy.  
**Disclaimer II:** The nickname "Dracums" was invented by my dear friend Golden, therefore it belongs to her. She has given me her permission to use it in this story.

**A/N: **Okay, so this is a sequel to my story _Memory Loss_, but since no-one seemed to notice it when it was published separately from _Memory Loss_ I decided to put it up as another update of the first story. :P From now on the chapters will be longer (_much_ longer, in many cases), and I hope you still enjoy it. :)

* * *

**Chapter 1 **

He was not kidding when he suggested that they "try out this bed"; as soon as Harry had consented to the idea, Draco pressed his lips against Harry's so hard it almost hurt. Bearing his near-to-death-experience and the fact that they had lost more than a month to Draco's amnesia in mind it was not so difficult to understand why Draco was so eager to unite their bodies anew.

Harry opened his mouth and seized the blonde's playful tongue, mixing saliva like a blender. Draco desperately clung to him as if he expected him to evaporate the second he dared to let go; his fingertips were boring into Harry's shoulderblades. The blonde moaned pleadingly, urging Harry on, and Harry responded by moving his lips to Draco's ear, nibbling at his earlobe, playfully biting down on the blonde's nape, leaving marks of his love.

He explored every wonderful inch of his lover's body anew, for he had gone without it for so long, so long... Gently, aware of his lover's every move and sound and careful not to hurt him, he began to unbutton Draco's shirt while tracing the line of his jaw with his tongue; he knew Draco loved that. The blonde gasped and tensed beneath him, unconsciously lifting both his chin and his crotch in lustful welcome.

Harry placed his hands on Draco's bare chest, marvelling over the firmness of his abs, then he bent down and teased Draco with fleeting kisses from neck to waist, painted intricate patterns on pale skin with the tip of his tongue; skin on skin, burning.

Draco meowled and seized Harry by the shoulders and pulled him back up in order to kiss him. Then, with his lips pressed close to Harry's ear, he whispered, "Please don't ever leave me, please don't ever leave me..."

To prove to Draco that he was not intending to break the promise that he made two years previously he kissed him and carressed his cheek. Draco pushed his crotch up again, making Harry painfully aware of his lover's erection, and with all his might he succeeded to summon enough brainpower to remember how to unzip his trousers. He made taking off the trousers a teasing game for Draco's pleasure and furthermore shrug out of his own pair.

Now only a thin layer of cotton separated them from each other, a thin layer that was easily discarded of. "Harry..." Draco was sighing, "... _please_..."

Harry steadied himself, his eyes on Draco, always on Draco, and pushed inside. Draco let out a short shriek of gratitude and anticipation and tightened his grip on Harry's shoulders. As Harry moved inside Draco he watched the blonde as he arched and thrashed beneath him, his eyes closed and focused on his inner world of pleasure. Then, like clockwork, Draco opened his silvery eyes and locked gazes with Harry; a lightning wave of burning desire washed over Harry, even greater than what he had thought was possible, and he began to move faster, faster.

Draco followed his movements in perfect synchrony, rising to receive every thrust with a strange smile forming on his lips. His silver blonde hair created a sort of halo around his flushed face. The smile widened when Draco suddenly began to tremble, and he threw his head back making louder and louder noises, breathing faster, faster, _faster_...

Harry knew that he was close now, oh God, he could not hold it in much longer...

"Harry! Harry! _Ha... Ha... Ha... Ha_…" The name got stuck in Draco's throat, and only the first syllable was repeated over and over in rhythm with Harry's thrusts until only the "a" remained in a steady stream of falsetto cries.

Eventually Harry felt the familiar tremble of orgasm, and shortly thereafter he emptied himself into Draco, their very essences melting together into one entity, forever welded together through all of eternity; they would never part. Never again. That was the promise they made to each other that night, in that room, in that bed; they would never part again.

"Harry... oh, God, Harry..." Draco was panting, lying exhausted with a look of utter satisfaction on his beautiful, pale face. "That was bloody brilliant."

Harry collapsed on top of him. "Boy, you really know your way with words, Dracums." He managed to slide down beside Draco; the blonde instantly snuggled into his arms. "But you're right, though. It _was_ bloody brilliant. Blimey, I've missed this."

Draco inhaled violently, and Harry figured he was taking in his scents, which was rather flattering actually. "Wish I could say the same..."

The sorrow and the vulnerability in the blonde's voice made Harry's heart skip a beat out of compassion and concern. "Don't even think about it, Dracums. It wasn't your fault; they messed with your head, _they_ are to blame. You didn't mean to treat me like that... and you _did_ come back to me, don't forget that. That's all that matters, nothing else means more to me than the fact that I got you back in one piece, just like you promised me. Just took a little longer than planned."

"Yeah, a month," Draco said scornfully.

"_Sssch._" Harry gently kissed the blonde's head and snuggled even closer. "Let's leave it all behind us now – it doensn't matter anymore. We have each other."

They slowly fell asleep in each other's arms.

* * *

He woke at dawn, and to his surprise he did not feel happy at all, but afraid. As the first rays of gloomy daylight touched upon the bed, he turned to look at Draco. He was so innocent when he was sleeping... so vulnerable... any minute anyone could step into the room and curse the brains out of him, and he would not even have the time to react to it.

And that was what scared Harry; that someone could take his Draco away from him in merely a fraction of a second, and there would be no stopping it. Nothing he could do about it. Being a part of the Order was dangerous, he had known that all along, and yet he had wished to join it – and had done so in his seventh year at Hogwarts.

By doing so he had put his lover in danger, and now he started to wonder if that had been right. Had it been just to mark Draco as a target simply because he needed vengeance for Sirius's death?

He got up from the bed very reluctantly, but he was determined to end this before it was too late. He could not put Draco in danger anymore; if Draco was killed he would never be able to live with himself. When he was buttoning his shirt the sheets rustled behind him. "Harry? Where are you going?"

Something sharp pierced his heart at that moment.

He said nothing.

"Are you going back to Hermione's?" There was a dark sorrow in Draco's voice, as if he thought that Harry would rather spend his life with Granger than with him.

Harry stopped dead, his shirt half-buttoned. "No. I'm never going back there." He could hear the hatred in his own voice, and it repulsed him. Had it really come to that? Did he hate his friends now? Disgusted with himself, he lowered his gaze and stared down at his feet, because he could not look at Draco.

"What? Why? Why are you never going back? Harry, has something happened?"

Harry clenched his hands. "She gave up on you. I can never forgive her for that. Never."

The silence that followed was uncomfortable, almost intolerable. Draco seemed to be confused about this, and he did not seem to understand where Harry was going with his statement. "What do you mean? She came here yesterday..."

"To kill you, yeah. She came here to kill you because she thought you had killed me. Draco, she told me to my face that she was prepared to do whatever it took to protect the world from you. She had murder in her eyes. I saw it. She gave up on you, and I will never forgive her for that, I don't care that we've been friends for seven years, I just can't forgive her."

He buttoned the last button in his shirt.

Draco sat up in bed. Must have been looking at him with a bewildered expression on his face. "Then where are you going?"

He did not listen, just put on his shoes and prepared himself to leave. "I have to digest this." Last he grabbed his black overcloak and wrapped it tightly around himself. It was a chilly day for being July. "I'm sorry, Dracums."

"Harry?"

He went to the Black house in London, not because he had intended to, but because he simply wound up there. It looked just like he remembered it from the summer leading up to his fifth year at Hogwarts, and from the Christmas holidays he had spent there together with the Weasleys. Filth still lurked in every corner of the house, and there were dozens of cobwebs adorning the rooms.

He needed time to think, but he also needed someone to talk to, and what he had on his mind could not be discussed with Draco since it concerned him, and he knew that the blonde would never agree to what he was going to suggest. Taking a deep breath, steeling himself, he went down the stairs as quietly as possible not to wake up Sirius's mother slumbering in the painting in the hall, and headed for the kitchen in the basement. There was one person he hoped to find there...

Lupin was sitting at the kitchen table, currently sipping some kind of steaming brew from a deep jug, and he did not notice Harry walk into the room. For a moment he stood there, hesitating, but then he decided it was best to speak up. "Hello, Professor Lupin, sorry to disturb you like this..."

Lupin started in his chair and swiftly stood up facing the doorway, wand at the ready. Then he let out a sigh of relief and lowered it to his side. "Oh, it's just you, Harry. What brings you here?"

Harry hesitated again, but then he took a seat opposite Lupin at the table.

Lupin sat back down, quietly watching Harry with those wise, experienced eyes of his.

Harry clenched his hands over the table. A scowl disfigured his face. "I've come to ask you something," he finally admitted. "You see, I've kind of reached a crossroads in my life..."

He lost the words. Lupin simply looked at him with calm anticipation.

"I was almost killed last night."

Lupin swiftly bent over the table, concern and fright written all over his face. "What? How could that happen, Harry? Harry, you need to tell me every detail about it if I'm going to grasp the severity of the situation fully. Tell me what happened."

To his surprise Harry found that he was shivering. Tears burnt in the corners of his eyes, but he fought them because he did not want to break down in front of his old professor; he thought of Lupin as a sort of mentor, and it meant a lot to him to have his respect. "I've been having some trouble with Draco lately..."

"Draco?" Lupin repeated. "Lucius Malfoy's son?"

"Yes. You know how he changed during our fifth year at Hogwarts, right? You remember how I told Sirius about... you remember, don't you?"

"Yes, Harry, I remember quite clearly how happy you were about it. But what does that have to do with last night? Did the Death Eaters attack you?"

"Well... sort of. It _was_ a Death Eater who attacked me, but it was... It was Draco, Professor."

He peered up at Lupin to see how he reacted to that, and just as he had anticipated his old professor was very astonished at this. "Draco was the one who attacked you? But how..."

"They had set a trap for him the night he returned to the Manor to talk to his father. Our graduation day from Hogwarts. He needed to clear up his past before he could come live with me, and he... he said he needed to do it alone. So I let him go. They beat him up... beat him up bad... and they cast an Obliviation Charm on him. He remembered nothing at all when I found him. I... I tried to help him... did all I could to make him remember me and everything we had together... but I failed, Professor. The only person I succeeded to bring back was the old Draco Malfoy, and he tried to strangle me... he went straight back to the Death Eaters, and he became one of them. When I saw him next time he attempted to kill Ron and Hermione, but they were protected by one of Piper's potions—"

"Ah," Lupin said with a faint smile, "Piper and her potions..."

"—and then he used the Avada Kedavra curse on me. But somehow it didn't work properly, and I lived. I was out for a few hours, but... but I was still alive. And when Draco thought he'd killed me he finally remembered, and he went berserk on the Death Eaters. Killed sixty-seven of them himself."

"_Sixty-seven_?"

"Yes. Including his parents and a few of his old classmates from Slytherin. I know it sounds unbelievable, but it's true – Piper can vouch for that. And I can understand why he did it perfectly well, because I felt like doing the same thing when I learnt of the Death Eaters' shady scheme. When I lost my Draco..."

He fell silent again. Something had clustered in his throat, preventing the words from reaching his mouth. Once again he had to struggle to repress the tears.

Lupin was watching him with concern. "And what happened when you woke up, Harry?"

A faint, bitter smile came to Harry's lips. "He came back to me. He apologised for what he had done to me... what he had _almost_ done to me. To us. Piper helped him get rid of the Mark."

"Yes, Piper Malfoy is quite a witch, indeed. I imagine there is nothing she can't do with a little magic."

"So she keeps telling us." Harry thought back at the previous night, and the smile on his lips broadened. "Nothing of his old self was left in him then, he was just... Dracums."

The right corner of Lupin's mouth twitched. "Dracums?"

Harry laughed. "Yeah, my nickname for him. We had quite a reuinion last night..."

"Then why are you so worried?"

Harry met Lupin's gaze without fear, without insecurity, without hesitation. "Because I realised last night that I need to make a choice, and it's the hardest choice I've ever had to make. I've experienced what it feels like to lose Draco, and I don't ever want to go through that again. Therefore I have to resign from the Order."

His request had the expected impact. The older man stared at him in disbelief – and disapproval. With a gracious sweep of his hand he conjured up a jug in front of Harry. "Here, have some Butterbeer. Harry, are you sure about this?"

"Yes. I have given it a lot of thought during the night, and when I woke up in the morning I knew what I had to do."

"But I thought you loved being a part of the Order..."

"I did, but not as much as I love Draco. He needs to come first from now on, I don't want to lose him again. And being in the Order means that I automatically make him a target for anyone who's up against it, and that's not right. He didn't choose to be in constant danger; I forced him into it. I don't want that anymore – I want out."

Lupin was silent for a moment. Then he nodded. "I see. I shall pass on your request to Dumbledore the moment I see him." The smile on Lupin's face was simultaneously pleasant and ominous, as if his dark side – the werewolf – was looking out at Harry through the professor's eyes. It made something stir within Harry's subconscious, but he was yet to learn what it meant.

Harry rose from the chair. "I'd better go back home to Draco and tell him about my decision."

"Oh, you haven't told him yet?"

Harry blushed and did not meet Lupin's gaze when he replied, "No, I just left him pretty much without saying a word. Didn't even tell him where I was going. I didn't want him to stop me."

Lupin rose to bid him farewell. "I see that you're already separating your choices and decisions from your lover. I find that wise – to a certain extent. Just make sure that you don't leave him out all too often, it might alienate him from you. So, are you living together now?"

"Yeah. Well, sort of. I got a call from the real estate firm we went to, and I was told that we got the apartment we wanted, but I haven't had a chance to tell him yet. We're staying at the Manor right now, what with his father being dead and all..."

"I see. Well, be sure to send him my regards."

"I will, Professor. Thanks for the talk, I really needed it."

Lupin laughed. "There, there, Harry. Don't you think it's time you stopped calling me Professor?"

"Er, Professor?"

"I haven't been your Professor for over four years, and as a good friend of your father I insist on you calling me Remus. Your father would have wanted that. So would Sirius."

The familiar pain of his most recent loss burnt anew in his heart. Yet he found a vague smile for Lupin, and before leaving he said, "Sure. Goodbye, Remus."

* * *

Oh, God, he was having a panic attack. He felt as if he was going to die. His lungs were clogged up and it was nearly impossible to breathe; his wheezing was the only sound he could detect in the huge room. His heart was pounding, pounding, pounding; his chest ached; his head spun as if the room had been magically transformed into a merry-go-round; his fingers and toes went numb; he was seeing stars.

_Oh, God, he doesn't love me anymore_, he thought miserably, _he left me, he left me because he can't love someone who's once been dark, he can't love me because I was dark, because I went over to the other side, oh God, he doesn't love me anymore..._

Ever since Harry left without even telling him where he went, Draco had been pacing his huge bedroom, anxiously waiting for Harry's return. At first he thought it was a joke, that Harry was trying to fool him into believing that he was mad at him or something, and that he would re-Apparate at any minute – but he did not come back. When several minutes had ticked by, Draco started to get worried, and eventually he came to the conclusion that Harry was not coming back at all.

_He left me... HE LEFT ME..._

Why the Hell had he been so stupid? Why had he gone back to the Manor on his own when he knew his father to be cruel and calculating? Why had not he let Harry persuade him into staying? They should have dealed with it when the time came, as Harry had said, but no; Draco had to prove himself to his lover – and at what price?

He had lost his memory and all his dignity, and he had willingly become a Death Eater. The fact that Piper had undone it did not matter; he still bore the Mark deep in his heart, and it had been imprinted upon him ever since birth.

Harry returned fifteen minutes after his departure and startled Draco. At first they just stood there looking at each other, a dark wonder in their eyes, but then Draco broke free of his temporary paralysis and threw himself in Harry's arms. "You bastard! Why did you leave me like that? I thought you were never coming back!"

Harry held him close to his chest and kissed the top of his head. "Of course I would come back – I swore to you that I would never leave you, remember? I haven't broken my promise yet, and I intend never to do so."

Tears were streaming down Draco's flushed cheeks. "But why did you go like that without telling me where and why? I was worried, you dumb idiot fool! _I was scared_..."

He loved Harry for not commenting on his name-calling.

Harry forced him to look at him. Then he licked Draco's tears up. "I'm sorry, baby, I should've told you. I just didn't think you'd let me go."

A shadow passed over the surfaces of Draco's silver eyes. "Were you seeing someone else?"

Harry smiled humourously. "Yeah, in fact I was. I went to see Professor Lupin to tell him that I'm resigning from the Order."

That was not exactly what Draco had been expecting him to say. He was completely thrown off his horse. "You... resigned? But why?"

Harry brushed a few strands of silver hair away from Draco's eye, lost in thought. Then he said, "I don't want to put you in danger, it's not right. Being an advocate of the Order means being a target – and anyone close to me would automatically become a target as well. I just don't want to lose you again, not when I finally got you back."

Draco felt weak-kneed and light-headed when he heard that, and once again he began to cry. Only this time he was crying of joy. Harry took him in his arms again and soothed him, whispering consoling words in his ear and lovingly kissing the crown of his head, his ear, his cheek, his nose, his eyes, and the corners of his mouth.

There was no questioning the love between them; it was stronger than anything else in the world, and nothing could break it apart. Or at least so it seemed to them then, and since it was the only thing they knew, the only emotion so strong that they could not deny it, they were both convinced that it would last forever. The near future would, however, prove them wrong.

Draco laughed somewhat embarrassedly. "Look at me – I'm a mess!"

"But such a lovely mess," Harry murmured, teasingly nibbling at Draco's left earlobe.

"I need a shower, I'm drenched in cold sweat because of you."

"Me?"

"Yeah, you bloody scared me when you took off as if your hiny was on fire, so technically it's your fault that I'm sweating like a pig."

"Well, then I better make it up to you by rubbing your back. You Malfoys do have soap, don't you?"

"Yeah... and what do you want to do with the soap?"

"Do you have a bathtub?"

"Bigger than any other bathtub you have seen."

"Show me."

Draco escorted Harry to the master bath, one of many rooms in the big Manor that Lucius Malfoy had taught his children was out of bounds for them.

It was obvious that Harry had something dirty in mind, because he kept touching him in sensitive places and teasing him with fleeting kisses all the way to the bathroom. When they had closed the door behind them Harry pulled him into his arms and kissed him passionately, reminding him of their first night together at the Dursleys'. With lots of effort they managed to restrain themselves until they were in the water, and Draco felt a burning yearning for Harry.

His desire was reflected in Harry's mysterious emerald eyes, like a cool fire. They had hardly gotten in the tub before Harry was all over him, his hands so hot against Draco's pale skin that he imagined them leaving burn marks. When Harry reached down and grasped Draco's manhood, Draco gasped unwillingly, muscles tensing in his entire body. Harry began to stroke him, slowly at first, almost tenderly, but escalated in speed until Draco was shouting out loud, unable to control himself, and he knew that this was exactly the kind of scenario that turned Harry on.

When Draco was close to climax, Harry stopped and pulled his hand away, teasing him by not granting him the lovely pleasure of orgasm just yet, because he wanted to be a part of it.

"Please, quickly, quickly, please Harry, don't stop," he begged, and yelped happily when Harry entered him and instantly began to thrust forcefully to the accompaniment of his own low animal grunts and Draco's "_ah, ah, ah_" swiftly rising an octave.

Draco shouted out his name, this wonderful dark-haired creature who gave him so intense experiences both in the physical and the mental realm, shouted it repeatedly until he lost all control of himself and, desperately poking his fingertips into Harry's back, felt his muscles tense one last time before they went limp.

At the same time, Harry tensed and lost all rhythm; "_Dracums!_" He came hard into Draco, filling the blonde up with a euphoric sensation that lasted for a magical ten seconds but felt like ten hours. Gratefully clinging to Harry, who was exhaustedly leaning his head back against the wall, Draco laughed.

"What is it?" Harry wondered, still panting happily.

"Nothing, really. I was just imagining my father's expression if he knew what we just did in his private tub."

Harry laughed as well. Then he kissed Draco's forehead. "I bet he'd go mad beyond repair."

"Yeah..." His voice trailed off. He played with the bubbles and the foam for a moment.

"Do you regret it?" Harry suddenly asked.

Draco looked up at him. "Regret what?"

"Killing him."

"Who? My father? No, I don't regret it. I'm glad I did it. He deserved what he got after what he did to us."

"I agree. But I was just thinking... I mean, he _was_ your father..."

Draco straightened up somewhat and reached for the soap. "In the biological sense, yeah, but he never gave me any reason to actually _think_ of him as my father. I was simply a status symbol to him, someone he could control and turn into a killing machine. I'm sorry to say I didn't see through his façade as quickly as Piper. You know, in that sense I really admire her. She never let our father control her, and she was never afraid of him. She simply used her skills as a witch to show him her true colours, and he never even tried to persuade her to join the dark side. He always knew she was beyond him. And he knew that she was too powerful to mess with."

Harry watched him as he spoke, and Draco had the feeling that he pitied him. "Don't," he said. "You shouldn't feel sorry for me, you've had it much worse than I have. You lost your parents before you were big enough to even remember them, and you had to grow up with those awful Dursleys..."

"Yeah, well, at least I have the comfort of knowing that they loved me unconditionally; you don't have that, Dracums," Harry pointed out with concern in his deep voice.

"No, I don't, but that's no reason to pity me. I can take care of myself."

"I know you can. I'm proud of you."

As promised, Harry rubbed Draco's back with loads of soap and made him shiny and clean and nice-smelling. They sat in the tub for an eternity, happier than they had both been for over a month's time, and they were very satisfied with their situation—

—until a strange man fell through the wall and landed on the floor next to the bathtub.


	23. As dark as it gets, part 2

**A/N:** When I wrote this I had big plans for the creatures called Forgettes (_pronounced as 'four-jets'_), that they were these foul monsters that lived deep in the mountains of Russia or something, but then I sort of forgot about them completely. Anyway, I made them up so they have nothing to do with Rowling.

In this chapter I can promise you a bit of action, an unexpected twist (that might not be so unexpected), a mysterious homemadepotion à la Piper, and a quite hot scene as well... (Oops! Have I promised too much already?)

* * *

**As dark as it gets, Chapter Two**

They stared at the dark-haired stranger in utter astonishment and understandable shock, both wondering where the Hell he had come from – and how! Normal people could not just walk through walls! And this young man certainly was no ghost, because he was not transparent.

Moaning in pain, he got up from the floor and brushed some dirt off the sleeves of his black jacket. He looked at them with an apologetic smile. "Sorry to barge in like this, but I have an important favour to ask you."

Draco suddenly remembered that he was naked, and desperate to cover himself up he hid behind Harry. "What the Hell are you doing?" he yelled at the stranger. "Get the Hell out of my bathroom!"

The dark-haired man got an expression of hesitation on his face. He shifted his feet. "Sorry, but I have to ask you to come up from there."

Draco waved his fist in the air threateningly. "Then would you mind not looking while we step out of the bloody tub?"

"Certainly," the stranger said, "I'm not into boys, anyway, so don't worry."

The obvious mockery in the stranger's voice made Draco furious. First he barged into _their bathroom_ of all places! And then he mocked them for being gay? The nerve of him! If he knew who they were, which certainly seemed to be the case since he had come there to ask them a favour, he should have known what to expect if he walked into their _bathroom_!

Flushing crimson with anger, Draco covered his wet body in a huge green towel and handed Harry one as well. Once not naked anymore, he felt more confident than ever. Facing the stranger, he said, "Now, tell me who you are and how you got here and I'll decide if you can stay and ask us that favour of yours."

The dark-haired man stuck out his chin in quite a familiar fashion, but Draco could not quite put his finger on who he reminded him of. "My name is Tom, and I'm from the future."

Draco stumbled backwards in shock. He looked at Harry. His lover was drop-jawed and displayed the same puzzlement that Draco himself felt. "E-excuse me? Where did you say you came from?"

"I'm from the future," Tom repeated impatiently. "Look, I know you guys probably have a zillion questions right now, but we'll have to deal with those later. Right now we need to find a way to shake off the Forgettes."

"Forgettes?" Harry echoed blankly.

"Yes. There is no time to explain what they are, they're right on my tail and we need to be prepared when they get here. You need to get dressed." He withdrew a wand from his jacket pocket and pointed it at them. They instinctively raised their arms in protection. "_Colluthia!_" Instead of cursing them – as they had expected him to do – he clothed them. Astonished, Draco and Harry looked down at their brand new designer jeans and matching midnight blue jumpers.

They looked like twins.

Draco fingered on the fabric in his jumper. "Gee, thanks. First you interrupt our romantic bath and now you give us presents. That is _so_ _thoughtful _of you."

Harry poked him in the side. "Draco..."

"_What?_"

"There, there, don't start quarrelling now," Tom said scornfully, crossing his arms over his chest, "staying focused and putting your differences aside is crucial for our survival. You need to concentrate on the task if we are to prevail."

Draco could not believe his ears. "_Our_ differences?"

Once again Harry tried to calm him. "Draco, I think we'd better listen to what he has to say. If he really is persued by some sort of magical creatures we might be in danger." He looked up at Tom, whom was currently loitering against the wall. "What do you need us to do?"

Tom yawned and studied his fingernails for a few seconds. Then he said, "You _do _have wands in 2004, don't you?"

Draco prepared himself to lash out at this rude man. "What kind of stupid question is that? Wands have been around since before the birth of Christ, for crying out loud!"

Harry put his hands on his arm. "Dracums, that's really not helping..."

"I don't care! This bozo is getting on my nerves!"

Harry was still studying Tom with knitted eyebrows. "Funny thing is, he reminds me of someone."

Draco was just about to throw another inventful repartee when a strange and ululating sound broke the silence. He stiffened. It was like a rusty saw being ground against a metal pole – but not quite. It was like a thunder in close-up – but not quite. It was like the screeching of a thousand widows in eternal dispair – but not quite.

The noise scared Draco more than anything had ever scared him before and cold shivers were running down his spine. He really did not want to meet the source of those hideous, alien noises.

But the next moment he had to. Three godawful creatures came through the same wall that Tom had used as a vortex, and the moment Draco saw them he knew that he never wanted to see the future that Tom came from. They were seven feet tall with orange-purplish skin, warts on hands and cheeks, long claw-like fingers with six joints and a coat of glossy, greasy black hair. Their faces were disfigured and looked as if they had been partially melted by acid; their long, hooked noses made odd sniffing noises, as if they could smell prey from miles away.

They looked around the room with small, glowing yellow eyes that did not seem to have any pupils at all; grey and black rags covered their lean, crooked bodies. The moment they spotted the three young men on the other side of the room, their greedy mouths opened, and they were just big holes, approximately ten inches in diametre and filled with sharp little teeth, and the stench that came out of them was unbearable. And they were hovering, just like the Dementors of Azkaban.

"What the Hell are those?" Draco meowled and backed up against the wall.

Tom was standing in wait with his wand at the ready. "Forgettes, officers of the law in the future," he told them with gritted teeth. "Now stay focused, you never know what they might do. They are unpredictable little buggers."

"Do? Well, _we_ can't do anything because _we _don't have our wands!"

Tom cursed. Then he shouted, "_Accio wands!_", and both Harry's and Draco's wands came flying to them from Draco's bedroom. He hastily threw them to them, and Draco noticed that he knew which wand belonged to whom. Knitting his brows, he looked at Tom with suspicion. How was it that he knew so much about them? And how had he known where to find them at that very moment?

He was forced back into reality by another of those awful shouts, and blinking the hazy daydream out of his eyes he focused on the Forgettes anew. "Are there any spells to hold them off?" he asked anxiously.

"Yeah, there are a few, none of them very strong, though."

"I might know one," Harry said out of the blue and raised his wand. With a cold determination on his face, he shouted: "_Expecto Patronum!_"

The stag – once argued that it was his deceased father's spirit – shot out of his wand and raced straight at the Forgettes, the most powerful Patronus that had ever been conjured. A blazing, almost blinding, white light hit the Forgettes with such power that they screeched louder than before, and Draco thought he detected a note of agony in their screams. The light held them in place for several nerve-wrecking seconds, and then it made them evaporate into thin, purplish smoke. A stench of decay rose in the room.

When Tom turned to Harry his green eyes were filled with admiration and awe. "Indeed, it _is_ true what they say of Harry Potter. You _were_ one of the greatest sorcerors in the world, even in your teens! I have never seen anyone conjure a Patronus like that! It was bloody brilliant!"

Harry blushed and stared down at his feet. "Ah, well, it was nothing... I've just had a lot of training, that's all..."

"But how did you know that the Patronus Charm would work?" Draco asked with bafflement.

"I didn't. I just guessed. The Patronus is supposed to work as a forcefield protecting the person who conjures it, right? So I figured it would hold them off for a while, I never thought it would actually kill them. But then again... the Patronus _is_ the most powerful protection charm in the world."

"It indeed is," Tom agreed. "I reckon it worked so well because the Forgettes are sensitive to bright light. Mostly they soar through the skies at night, looking for delinquents."

Draco knitted his eyebrows. "Yeah, that's right... how come they're after _you_ if they're officers of the law in the future? Are you wanted for murder or something?"

The smile on Tom's lips unnerved Draco and sent cold shivers down his spine. "No, but I reckon you should be, _Mr. Malfoy_," he said enigmatically, and turned his back on them. "I simply happened to come in the way of a really nasty sonofabitch who used to be my friend, but when things heated up for him he impersonated me to save his own arse. Some friend, eh? Bet you never had any problem like that, having to run from the law when you're innocent and all..."

Draco's tension was partially relieved, but he still felt very suspicious of this Tom fellow. Something about him screamed "wrong," but he could not quite put his finger on what exactly. Simultaneously, there was something very familiar about the air of superiourity and superciliousness that surrounded him, something very familiar with the way he spoke and the way he carried himself. Some of the things he did, some of the things he said... it was all so _familiar_.

Harry pocketed his wand. Then he looked at Tom. "Shall we go down to the parlour and talk this through under less stressed circumstances?" he suggested soberly.

Tom walked right past them without as much as a look at either of them. "You totally read my mind, Potter. We have a lot of business to attend to if we're going to outsmart the Forgettes."

* * *

Tom refused to speak of the future that he had left behind in case revealing too much about it would change Harry's and Draco's opinions concerning certain things that would eventually form their future.

Since Harry was such a famous wizard, Tom pointed out, there was a great risk of the entire world's future being changed if Harry learnt too much of what was to come in some years' time. He did not say much about those Forgettes, either, which made his unspoken intentions even more fishy.

Harry did not know if they could trust him and remained on his guard at all times. Draco seemed to be thinking in the same patterns as him; during their short conversation he was scowling and he repeatedly shook his head as if to point out that it was too unbelievable to be true.

"You still haven't told us why you went back in time – _if_ you went back in time," Draco reminded Tom with gritted teeth.

Tom smirked at him. "Well, I had to go somewhere they wouldn't find me, right? And what would be better than to actually be protected by the mighty Harry Potter in his very prime? This is the year that Harry is at his magical peak, this is the year that he will do most good in the world – that's why I chose this time and this place. And since the future is threatened, who could be a better choice than Harry Potter and his grumpy lover? After all, you two _are_ the most powerful couple in the wizarding world right now."

"Is that so? Then tell me, why is it that all this crap sounds so shady?"

"Maybe because your father taught you to be wary of people who didn't seem to be of the same rank as you."

Draco shot up from his armchair. "How dare you compare me to my father?"

Tom laughed. "I think you just proved my point by reacting like that. But take it easy, Malfoy – I'm not holding your genetic heritage against you. On the contrary, I believe it's a major asset in the future war."

Harry knitted his eyebrows. "War? What war? Are you talking about the Death Eaters? About Voldemort?"

A shadow passed over the green surfaces of Tom's eyes, a fleeting expression of a feeling he was exceptionally good at hiding. "So, you dared to speak his name even in these times?"

Harry jerked involuntarily in his seat. "What... what's that supposed to mean?"

"I am merely saying that these are very uncertain times, Harry. Many people are afraid of the Dark Lord – most won't even speak his name, let alone in the company of strangers. But you never shared that fear, did you, Potter? You've never been afraid of speaking Voldemort's name."

Draco jerked as if he had been slapped in the face.

Harry determinedly met Tom's eyes. "I see you're not very afraid of speaking it, either."

The smirk on Tom's lips widened into a scornful grin. "Fear of the name only increases the fear of the thing itself, right? Isn't that what your friend Hermione once said? Too bad she won't live to see the day that that fear has been eliminated."

Harry's eyes narrowed. "Why are you bringing up Hermione all of a sudden? Is it because she used to be my friend? Do you really think I care about what will happen to her in the future? If you do you're really stupid, and here I was thinking you might be my intellectual equal."

Draco stared at Harry in astonishment. He obviously could not believe what he was hearing.

Tom seemed to be happy with Harry's statement, though. He laughed shortly. "I like your attitude, Potter. You never let your friends stand in the way of what you wanted. I admire that in a man. I believe now more than anything that you guys can help me with my little quest."

"As soon as you've told us _what_ that quest _is_, that is," Draco sighed, pouting.

"Oh, haven't I already? I must apologize for my thoughtlessness. My quest is to stop the person who started this before he could even plan his scheme."

"Eh? What d'you mean?"

"I told you about my friend, didn't I? He impersonated me to make the authorities think that I was the one who killed the Minister for Magic to save his own skin, and I came here to prevent his father from giving him the influence that eventually made him take a step too far over to the dark side, so to speak."

Draco frowned again. "His father? You mean he's a kid right now? He's here, in our now? But then you can't be from such a distant future!"

Tom laughed anew. "Twenty-one years, to be exact. And, yes, my 'friend' is in fact in this now... Today is the moment of conception."

"So, you're the same age as my sister," Draco stated simply, scratching his chin thoughtfully. The moment he had uttered those words a thin yellow-tinted fog began to billow out of the vase of flowers in the middle of the parlour table. Immediately, Draco started to wave his arms about dismissively while saying, "No, no, I didn't call you!"

But it was already too late. When the fog lifted, Piper was sitting opposite him at the table, a broad taunting smile on her lips. "Hiya, brother! Heard you mentioning me, and since I was planning on paying you a visit anywho I decided this was the proper time to put in an appaearance." She shuffled through the many pockets of her travelling robe and eventually withdrew her tattered wand. She flicked her wrist elegantly. "Here, have some Butterbeer, laddies. On me."

Up until then she had not noticed Tom sitting next to her, but now she jerked in her seat and cried out shrilly.

Tom raised his eyebrows in shocked surprise. "Hey, take it easy, lady! No need to scream like that, I'm not dangerous!"

Draco snorted. "Well, see, that's where we disagree," he said darkly.

Harry demonstratively hit him on the arm. "Draco! Some manners, please!"

"Yeah, you just wait and I'll show him some manners."

Piper squinted at Tom and bent forward. Then she looked at her brother. Looked back at Tom. Back at Draco. "Drakie-bums, do you have an older twin you haven't told me about?"

That was about the stupidest thing any of them had ever heard coming out of Piper's mouth, and none of them felt it necessary to reply.

"I'm Tom," Tom informed her, "I'm from the future."

Piper laughed somewhat embarrassedly. "Oh, that explains it all perfectly well! Of course you are, boy."

"Hey! Don't call me boy – we're the same age, you know!"

"No, technically I'm 21 years older than you, so I am entitled to call you boy, right, boy?"

Tom grunted something.

Harry was watching their conversation with confused interest. "How did you know he's 21?" he asked blankly.

Piper waved her right hand at him impatiently. "It will all be evident in due time, Harry, dear. You'll see."

Draco had obviously given up and decided to stay silent. He took a sip of his Butterbeer and made a wry face. "_Ugh_, mine is ice cold!"

Piper gasped. "Oh, is it, really? I'm so sorry, I've been having a cold for some time now and it's affecting my powers. Here, let me go warm it up for you." She rose from the table and made to grab his jug, but he pulled it away from her.

Pulling out his own wand, Draco said, "I can do it myself, no worry."

"No, please let me, Drakie-beans! It was my mistake and it's mine to correct. And besides, you have a microwave in the kitchen! I love those funny-looking little Muggle boxes that make that windy sort of sound – it's so much fun to press the buttons! Please, Draco! It'll only take a minute!"

Draco hesitated for a second or two, but then he sighed in defeat. "Oh, all right. But don't put any metal in the microwave, okay? It'll make it short-circuit."

"Yes!" Piper snatched the jug up from the table and strutted out of the parlour singing Christmas carols even though it was the beginning of July.

* * *

A very naughty feeling came over her when she took out the small bottle of Priberty Potion and poured it into Draco's jug of Butterbeer. With a quiet squeal of satisfaction she watched the explotion and the chemical reaction when the two liquids blended together.

For a few seconds the drink turned pink, then purple, then black, and then it returned to its original colour. Still singing loudly she put the jug in the mocrowave and began the search for the correct buttons.

Offering her brother some Butterbeer, which she knew that he loved just like any other young wizard around, was the perfect excuse to sneak her most recent potion into the house and try it on him. He had long ago stopped agreeing to be her guinea pig voluntarily, so nowadays she had to lure her potions into him.

But it still worked.

And in just a few hours the potion would kick in, and hopefully the results would be plain to see in only a couple of weeks' time.

* * *

Tom and Piper did not seem to get along at all, and for some reason Draco liked him for it. All they did during Piper's short visit was fighting about this and that, almost as if they had known each other for a decade or something. Because even if their constant quarrelling made it look as if they totally loathed each other, there also seemed to be some sort of indeniable love underlying all of that.

One moment they were yelling at each other at the top of their lungs – the next moment they were laughing. And what was even more confusing was that Piper gave Tom a huge hug before she left the Manor.

"There is definitely something between them," he said to Harry when they finally got some time alone in the evening.

"I couldn't agree with you more," Harry said.

"Think they've fallen for each other?"

"You mean like love at first sight? I don't know. It's possible, I guess, but it just seems too absurd that Piper Malfoy should have fallen for someone at first sight."

"I know what you mean. My sister isn't exactly the love type."

"No, she's more into torture."

They laughed appreciatingly at Harry's joke.

Harry was getting ready for bed and was currently changing into his checkered pajamas. Draco watched him from a distance of five feet. He felt priviliged to be with someone like Harry, and he just could not stop looking at him. His movements were just so spirited, the way he buttoned that night shirt...

... and suddenly something wild came over him. He did not know how and why, but suddenly he was throwing himself at Harry from behind, ripping at his newly buttoned night shirt and violently forcing him down onto the made bed.

Stunned, he looked at Draco with raised eyebrows. "What are you doing?" he asked in shock.

Draco ripped open Harry's shirt so violently that several of the buttons went flying through the room. Putting his hands on Harry's chest, he felt drool run down his chin and was utterly disgusted with himself. It was as if he had become possessed by some sort of animal, and he could not control himself.

Man, if Harry was not in the mood he would rape him! That was not what he wanted. But the strange feeling that had come over him would not take no for an answer – he _would_ get laid!

"God, I don't know, I don't know what's happening to me, I just know that I _have_ to make love to you _right now_, I need you _right now_, Harry!" he heard himself saying with a hoarse voice that did not at all sound like him.

For a moment Harry remained stunned, but then he grinned mischievously. "You're bloody sexy when you're this rough, Dracums. So, is it my turn to be trashed?"

"No! _You_ have to fuck _me_, Harry!"

Harry was startled by his sudden outburst but collected himself rather quickly. "Okay..."

As soon as Harry had consented Draco ripped off his own clothes – he was still wearing the jeans and midnight blue jumper that Tom had conjured up for him – and threw himself on his back, looking up at Harry expectantly. "Well? Aren't you going to make love to me?" he asked impatiently. "I need you _now_, Harry, right now, it'll be too late in a few minutes."

"Too late?" Harry echoed. "Too late for what?"

Draco frowned. "I don't know. I have no idea where those words came from. I just... _ah!_" Struck by a sudden throb of intolerably strong desire, he lifted himself off the pillows and pressed his lips against Harry's hard while simultaneously taking a firm grip of Harry's privates, making his lover twitch and get instantly aroused.

Harry returned the kisses with growing desire and pushed Draco backwards onto the bedspread. The blonde clasped him desperately. "Hurry, I don't know how much longer I can take this, it's too much, it's tearing me apart, all this desire is burning me down, it's..."

He gasped when another surge of strong desire passed through him – he had never felt anything like it.

Harry bit down on the blonde's bare nape. "Man, what on Earth did she put in your Butterbeer?" Not waiting for an answer, he pushed inside Draco and was rewarded with a squeal of delight.

Draco forced Harry to move with a much faster rhythm than he would have liked. "What do you mean 'put in my Butterbeer'?"

Harry almost could not talk because of all the breathtaking sensations he experienced. "Well, you're not... _yourself_... you're way too... you're unnaturally horny... and it just... came over you _in a second_..."

Draco dug his fingers into Harry's back. "Maybe... but in that case... this is a potion I actually like..."

"Like? You look as if you're... exploding any minute," Harry objected.

"_I am!_"

The blonde started to tremble violently and clasped his thighs tighter around Harry, and when he felt Harry ejaculate inside him he cried out satisfactory, knowing that this was exactly what he had wanted, what he had needed. The warm semen filled him up and gave him a wonderful, happy feeling. The moment Harry had released himself Draco turned back to normal; nothing of the strangeness remained in him. "Must've been some weird potion," he claimed. "I feel okay now."

"I'm glad to hear that," Harry said and snuggled up to him, "because I couldn't possible perform again. Blimey, Dracums, you totally took the wind out of me! What on Earth came over you?"

"I don't know. But thank you for helping me act it out," he said teasingly.

Harry hit slapped him on the chest. "You had better make it up to me sometime because I always do all the work around here!"

Draco raised an eyebrow in mock surprise. "Oh? I thought you liked it on top."

"I _love it_ on top, but it would be nice with _you_ on top for a change."

"We'll make some changes next time," Draco promised and kissed Harry's forehead. "It's just that I feel like the girl in this relationship sometimes..."

"Oh, you mean the way you always bitch and moan about everything?"

"Shut up! You know what I mean."

"Yes, I do. You want me to hold you, don't you?"

"Yeah, I do."

* * *

Tom's plan sure took a lot of planning and preparation before it could be executed, and all throughout the prep days neither Harry nor Draco had any real clue as to what exactly they were expected to do.

After a week of fuzzy briefings Draco was getting anxious, and it resulted in a quite upset stomach. Every time Tom began to talk about their upcoming "quest," Draco would make a wry face and run straight to the bathroom, and Harry often heard him throw up in there.

He was getting more and more worried about his lover; if he could not even take the pressure of _thinking_ about taking care of the Forgettes, how would he react when it was actually time for them to _act_?

And he hardly ever ate any more, said he was not hungry or felt too queasy to get a single bite down. He had trouble sleeping and kept Harry up many hours during the night. When two weeks had passed without even the slightest change Harry was really getting nervous and worried and almost developed an upset stomach of his own.

Meanwhile, Tom was getting smugger by the minute, and Harry often caught him regarding Draco with some sort of distanced self-righteousness, as if he knew something about Draco that Harry did not. Eventually he started to think that Tom might be the source of Draco's anxiety; maybe Tom had done something to him, magically, to make him this jittery and insecure.

But as the days passed, Draco calmed down – and so did his stomach.

One day he urged Harry to help him find some information on Sleeping Potions. "You know, to help me sleep better," he said and placed Harry in one of the many comfortable armchairs in the den and asked him to go through some of his spell books.

"But aren't your spell books just about dark magic?" Harry asked in confusion.

"No, no, no, I have other books as well, books that I got during our Hogwarts days," Draco told him casually. "Could you just look through them quickly and see if you find anything for me? I'm really getting tired of this insomnia – but still not the kind of tired that would make me sleep. I don't want to keep you up every night with my anxious thrashing and tossing and turning..."

Harry laughed. "Okay, I get your point. So, what are you up to this morning?"

"Oh, nothing exciting, I'm afraid. I promised Tom to check out a few things for him in Diagon Alley. Since the Forgettes are still after him he doesn't feel up to going down to London himself, so..."

"I see. Well, have a good time then, baby." Harry gave the blonde a fleeting kiss and sat down to skim through the first of seven spell books that had been shoved into his arms.

Draco made a wry face. "I wouldn't think so," he protested, "but at least I'll get some fresh air. And maybe I'll run into someone I know, who knows? Might have a few happy reunions right there in one of the stores. And I might bring something special back home..."

"Do so. Don't forget that we're almost out of Floo powder."

"I know, I'll be sure to get some more. Be a good boy while I'm gone, okay?"

"Yes, mother."

Harry spent most of the morning and the early afternoon going through those books, and every time he found a spell that might be of use to Draco he was careful to make notes of them on a roll of parchment.

Tom came into the room a couple of times to ask his advice on certain matters, but beside from that there was little interruption. When the clock ticked three in the afternoon Harry yawned and got up from the armchair. He went to see if Draco had returned from Diagon Alley yet, figuring that he would be either in his bedroom or in the parlour.

Both were empty.

Harry simply shrugged and decided to go down to the kitchen to have a snack and some Butterbeer; he was getting hungry. It was no secret that Draco loved to shop in Diagon Alley and could spend several days at an end there if no-one reminded him that it was time to go home, so Harry was not worried.

When he was just about to go into the kitchen he almost collided with Draco in the doorway. Astonished to find that Draco was home after all, Harry took a step backwards. He noticed that Draco had some flour on his right cheek, and his light red jumper featured some odd looking stains. Frowning, Harry said, "What are you doing?"

Draco looked down at his jumper. Then he laughed somewhat nervously. "Oh, nothing, I was just... cleaning."

That statement only made Harry more surprised. "Cleaning? How? By sifting flour all over the room?"

Draco gave him a strange look. "What?"

"You're all covered in it." He brushed some of the white powder off his lover's face.

The blonde blushed. "Oh, that... yeah, I was just... it was supposed to be a surprise, but I guess it's too late now..."

"Surprise?"

"Yeah, it's your birthday, dimwits," Draco reminded him and gently struck his head to get some sense of tension into him. "I was baking a cake."

Harry was completely taken aback. "A cake? For me?"

"Yeah, I thought you deserved it since you've been putting up with me and my bloody stomach all these weeks... it was the least I could do."

Harry laughed somewhat nervously. "Hope you didn't sneeze on it, babe, I don't want to catch something."

Draco struck him again. "Hey! You're so insensitive! I put my life and soul into that cake, and I know it's not exactly a beauty or even an average-looking cake, but I _did_ bake it with my heart so you'd better appreciate it!"

Harry kissed him gently. "I bet I will. Show me."

The blonde had been right about it not being a very pretty cake – it looked awful – but it tasted delicious. And the fact that Draco had baked it himself with his bare hands and had not used any magic at all flattered him and made him immensely proud of his lover.

They skipped dinner and ate loads and loads of cake instead until they both felt ready to puke. "So, that whole thing about going to Diagon Alley was just a decoy?" Harry asked when they lay fat and moaning on the huge sofa in the parlour.

"No, I did go to Diagon Alley. Had to pick up your present."

"Present?"

Draco smiled broadly at him. "You're going to love it."

In spite of his difficulty to move because of all the cake inside him he managed to walk out of the room and return with a huge parcel wrapped in brown paper. Instantly curious about what the package might hold, Harry sat up on the sofa when Draco handed it to him. "I ordered it a month ago, and it just came in today. Bloody good for the guy in the store, he would've gotten a Hell if it hadn't come in the right day."

The blonde watched him intently as he ripped open the parcel. When he saw what it was he cried out in joy and boyish wonder. "Dracums, how did you get hold of this?" he demanded.

What Harry was holding was in fact the brand new Firebolt 4000, the latest model and the fastest broom in the world, twice as fast as his old Firebolt!

Draco was smiling with his entire face. "I know how you said you wouldn't have time for Quidditch what with Auror training and all, but I just thought it was sad that you should give up something that you love so much, so I decided to give you a little reminder. I figured you should take some time and think about what you really want to do with your life, and if you decide that you want to focuse on Quidditch this will really help you to perform your best."

Harry threw himself in Draco's arms. "Dracums, you're the best! I can't thank you enough for this! It's the best birthday ever!"

Draco laughed. "I thought your best birthday ever was the day we made love for the first time," he pointed out.

"Not anymore. Consider yourself cut out."

"Bastard!"

"What? Watch your mouth young man, 'cause I'm 18 now and I'm officially of age!"

"Double bastard!"

They laughed heartily, but it ended abruptly when Draco went pale and made a gassy sort of sound. "Uh-oh, it's time again..."

Next he was running to the bathroom and Harry could hear him vomit in there. When he came back into the parlour his face was all grey, and tiny beads of sweat crowned his forehead.

"Must be all the cake," he said, but he did not convince either of them.

Harry put his arms around Draco protectively and kissed the crown of the blonde's head. He wanted to believe that the cake was to blame, but this had been going on for far too long. Something was wrong with Draco, and he hoped to God it was not anything serious.

Tom came into the room and stopped just a few feet in front of them. "I've figured it all out now – the plan is ready. We'll go over it tomorrow morning and set to work as soon as possible. We don't have much time."

He left them again before any of them had any time to object.

And it was then, in the silence of their anxiety concerning Draco's deteriorating condition, that Draco remembered something of significance; something that he had suppressed for the last few weeks as a result of Harry's near-to-death experience.

"Oh, my God..." he whispered.

Harry knitted his eyebrows in suspicion. "What?"

"I just remembered... that night... when the Death Eaters almost made me kill you..."

He looked up at Harry with glowing grey eyes, astonishment and shock written all over his face.

"I killed Voldemort."

* * *

**A/N:**Hmm... I just realised I've made a major mistake here... since when did Draco say Voldemort's name that indifferently? He's terrified of that name! But all of a sudden he says it all bluntly like that... Hmm... I guess I didn't think about that... :p 


	24. As dark as it gets, part 3

**A/N:** Hi everyone! Now I'm back with a new update... Sorry that it took me so long! Lately I've been very busy, so I haven't had time for pastimes, but from now on I will really make an effort to update more frequently! (Hope I'll still have any readers, though... sigh)

* * *

**As dark as it gets, Chapter Three**

"You what?" Harry could not quite make Draco's words form some sort of meaning inside his head; it was simply too unbelievable to even grasp. He watched his lover as he began to shiver and protectively embraced himself.

Draco looked at him with that surprised look again. "I killed Voldemort, Harry. That night when I cursed you. I killed Voldemort."

The words were finally starting to sink in. Harry blinked. "You killed Voldemort? What do you mean?"

"I... when I brought you down for your fake ceremony, Voldemort was there to witness your demise. Do you remember that Harry? He was there together with the Death Eaters; he was standing right next to my father."

"He was? I didn't see him there..."

"Well, he was," Draco assured him, "he said he wouldn't miss that moment for the world. When I... well, when I was supposed to kill you. But then when I remembered everything... I went beserk, remember? And I killed them all, every single one of them, all the people that were present. And I killed Voldemort together with them."

Harry wanted to believe Draco, but there was still something that spoke against his story. "But, Dracums, it's impossible to kill Voldemort. He's too strong. Not even the Avada Kadavra curse would be enough to kill him."

Draco laughed bitterly. "Oh, you didn't see me that night, Harry – I was dangerous. Totally deranged. I was so furious that you were dead, so agonised... With all those emotions flying around inside me I was more than a lethal weapon, Harry, and it was as if all the ancient powers gathered within me and gave me extra strength, so when I used the curse it became much more powerful than it ought to have been. I killed thirty of them in one hit."

"Thirty! Thirty?"

"Yeah, thirty. And the Dark Lord himself was standing right up front to have the best view of your execution. I killed him, Harry. And when I thought I had lost you I buried him together with the others in our backyard, down by the lake. No-one ever comes there, so I figured no-one would ever find them if I put them there."

They were both silent for a while. Then, Harry said, "I need to tell Dumbledore about this."

Draco swiftly sat up. "You can't – they'll arrest me!"

Harry simply shook his head. "No, in that case they would have arrested you long ago. I told Lupin about your little Death Eater killing spree, and he was very impressed. He told Dumbledore about it as soon as he saw him, I am sure. If anyone wished to arrest you they would already have done so. I need to rapport this to them."

He started to get up from the sofa.

Draco grabbed the sleeve of his shirt and held him back. "Wait! You're not in the Order anymore, you have no obligation to rapport to them!"

"I know, but I think that anyone who has information about Voldemort's death should rapport in to them, don't you agree?" he pointed out.

Draco sighed and let go of Harry's sleeve. "You're right, of course. But please at least let me come with you."

"Certainly. I was just going to ask you."

"You're just saying that."

"No, I'm not. I don't want you to be alone in this house with Tom around – I don't trust him. He's been acting real strange around you the last couple of days."

"So you've noticed?"

"How could I not? Did you get the Floo powder when you went to Diagon Alley?"

"Of course I did. It's right there by the fireplace." Draco pointed at the large pot hanging from the wall next to the open fireplace. They grabbed a handful each and travelled together to the old Black House in London.

They emerged from the fireplace in the basement kitchen, and two people were currently in the room. Lupin was sitting at the table, just as he had done when Harry paid him a visit three weeks ago, almost as if he had not left it at all. Mad-Eye Moody was pacing up and down the small room, looking anxious and agitated over something. When Harry and Draco appeared before them they both jumped, but the shock gave away pretty quickly. "Ah, Harry," Lupin said with an amused smile, "I take it that you made up, then?"

Harry frowned. "What? Oh, that. Yes."

Mad-Eye came at them with a mad look in his normal eye. "Potter! You can't just burst in here through that fireplace every time you feel like visiting! What if someone followed you!"

Harry felt as if he was shrinking. "Sorry. It just seemed to be the best way of travelling here at the moment," he apologized. "And it's important that we speak with Dumbledore, so have you any idea as to when he'll come here next?"

Both Lupin and Mad-Eye seemed utterly surprised by this.

"Dumbledore?" Lupin echoed.

"What do you want with Dumbledore?" Moody asked suspiciously.

"It's quite a delicate business," Harry said quickly, "and I don't want to convey too much about it without him present – he has to hear this firsthand."

Moody looked as if he was about to say something else, but was interrupted before he could even begin by a shrill mew from Draco. Harry looked at him. Draco was holding his hands to his stomach, grimacing in pain, pathetic little squeals escaping him at regular intervals. "What's wrong?" he asked worriedly, and swiftly put his arm around Draco's back.

"I... I don't know... it hurts... what's happening to me?"

Harry helped him to a chair. Anxiety and concern made him dizzy; what if Tom really_had_ done something to him? What if he had fed Draco some sort of slow-working poison that was slowly killing him? Maybe Tom had come from the future to rid the world of them, not ask for their help, and he preferred to watch them being tortured and suffer instead of simply kill them on the spot?

As if from some distance away, he could hear Mad-Eye Moody say: "He's not a werewolf, is he?"

"Don't be stupid!" Lupin replied incredulously. "And even if he was, how is he supposed to get access to the full moon from a windowless basement? Really, Moody!"

Moody snorted. "I am simply considering all the possibilities..."

"I would say that you're not," Lupin retorted.

"Would you two please be quiet?" Harry nudged. Then he gently grabbed Draco's chin and lifted his face to force his lover to look at him. "Dracums? Are you all right? What happened?"

Draco was shivering and panting, his eyes closed.

"Dracums?"

"It hurts..." The two words was merely a pathetic whisper, and Harry had to strain to even hear it. Even more anxious now, he turned to Lupin and Moody. "Do you have any potions or spells that can tell whether a person has been poisoned or not?" he asked them with urgency in his voice.

Lupin rose from the table. "Yes, I believe we have something here..." He started to search through the many cabinets in the kitchen until he found a small bottle containing a sickly green liquid. He poured a glass of water and let three drops of the green fluid fall into it. He gave it to Harry. "Here, give him this. If he burps green bubbles after drinking this he's all right."

Harry took the glass. "And if he doesn't?"

"Then we need to get him to St Mungo's immediately, because there is no way of knowing what sort of poison he's been given. We would need Snape for that."

Harry nodded. His hand shaking considerably, he put the glass to Draco's lips and helped him drink most of the spiked water. Almost immediately, Draco began to cough up great amounts of greenish bubbles. Harry let out a sigh of relief. He had not been poisoned. But then he went rigid with anxiety again. Because if he had not been poisoned, then what in the world was wrong with him?

Draco began to breathe more normally again. He looked up at Harry, and his silver eyes were dark with exhaustion. "It's passed," he told him. "I feel okay again... or, well, as okay as I have been feeling the past few weeks. Maybe I've just caught some kind of virus."

"Some virus," Harry said, and kissed Draco's forehead. "You scared me, you bloody bastard. Don't ever do that again, all right?"

Draco smiled faintly. "I'll try."

Moody let hear some sort of disapproving grunt when Harry kissed Draco anew. They both looked at the older man with raised eyebrows. "What has the world come to?" Moody was muttering to himself. "Boys kissing each other! What will come next?"

Lupin laughed, and the boys joined him. Then, suddenly, Lupin fell silent. He was looking in the direction of the doorway. Clearing his voice, he said, "Dumbledore."

Harry and Draco turned towards the doorway. The Headmaster of Hogwarts stood there smiling amusedly at them all. Then he winked at the boys. "I hope I'm not disturbing," he said, and entered the room. He sat down opposite Draco at the table.

Harry swiftly got up from the floor. "Dumbledore, we have something important to tell you..."

"So I've heard," Dumbledore interrupted.

"You have?"

"Word spreads quickly these days. So, what is it that you want to tell me?"

He looked at the two boys with warm curiousity.

Harry looked at Draco. The blonde nodded. He would be the one to tell their old Headmaster. Sticking out his chin in a most Malfoyish fashion, he said, "I killed Voldemort." There was no need to sugarcoat it or try to tell them in a dismissive manner; better to just say it straight out.

Lupin and Moody were completely taken aback by the bluntness of Draco's statement, but Dumbledore simply regarded him with solemnity. "May I ask you how this happened?" he inquired after some seconds of pondering.

Draco told him about everything that had happened that night three weeks ago with shame, and he could not look at Dumbledore when he recounted the occurrences at the Malfoy Manor. Harry held his hand to provide him with support. "So, you can show us to the grave, then?" Dumbledore asked when Draco fell silent.

The blonde nodded slowly.

Dumbledore rose from his seat. "Then I suggest we leave immediately."

Moody looked stricken. "What? But you can't just go out on a field trip like that, Albus! It's too dangerous! You don't know if these boys are lying or not!"

Dumbledore fixed his eyes on Moody's good one. "I would trust Harry with my life. He has shown me great loyalty over the years, and I wouldn't think something that low of him. Harry is not a lier. And if our young Mr. Potter trusts Mr. Malfoy here, I suggest that you trust him as well."

"Yes, sir."

"Now we shall all go the Manor to have a look at this grave, because Voldemort's body will be the only evidence we need to prove that he really is dead." He turned to the two boys. "And if what you say is true – that you indeed have killed Lord Voldemort – then the future will look much brighter for the magical community." He smiled pleasantly at them.

Even though Mad-Eye Moody seemed to be awfully reluctant to go with them he stepped right up to the hearth and grabbed a handful of Floo powder for himself, then he gave Dumbledore a stern look and nodded slowly. "Then let's go."

Draco led the way through the garden behind the Malfoy Manor down to the lake and pointed out the place where he had buried the bodies. The earth there bore obvious signs of having been disrupted just recently, so none of them distrusted him when he said this was the grave. He explained to them that he knew many spells that moved inanimate objects from one place to another – even a few that would move living, mobile things – but that he knew of no spell that would magically make things disappear from the face of the earth, therefore he had resorted to burying the Death Eaters. It had been his only way of discarding of them fast enough. "If you don't believe me you can simply call Piper here and she will gladly tell you that she caught me in the act," he mumbled somewhat absent-mindedly.

Harry clasped his lover's hand tighter in his. A shiver passed through his body when Dumbledore stretched out his arm over the grave and began to dig it out with his mere will-power. Even though he wanted that wretched, disfigured, horrific face to stare up at him the moment the dirt was removed because it would prove his lover's story to be true, he still wished that it would not because he did not ever want to stare into those vicious, cold eyes again – even if they were dead now.

Limbs became visible. Black cloaks. Loads of them. Eventually they saw the faces of Draco's parents and a few other Death Eaters that Harry recognised immediately; Dumbledore kept digging.

And there he was. The Dark Lord himself. Staring up at them with unseeing eyes. Doubtlessly, he was dead. Harry turned to Draco with astonishment written all over his face. "You... you actually did it! You actually killed Voldemort, Dracums!"

Draco was making a wry face of disgust. "You sound as if you didn't believe me," he reproached.

"I... I didn't know what to believe, I... I know that you would never lie, Dracums, it's just that... it's all so incredible," Harry tried to explain. "I believed you from the moment you told me, but there was still a part of me that was sceptical."

"I don't blame you," Draco assured him. "I wouldn't believe me, either."

Footsteps could be heard from behind them, advancing on them fast. Ultimately Tom stood beside them. He looked from Draco and Harry to the three – to him – strange men. "What's going on here? Whatchu up to?" Then he turned his gaze down to the grave and jerked, stumbling backwards in terror and shock. Holding his hand defensively in front of his face, he stared at them in utter fright. "What the Hell is this? What have you done?"

Draco finally seemed to regain at least some of his usual wit. "What's the matter, Tom? You look like you've just seen a ghost. I assumed you already knew about all this since you were so kind to point out that I ought to be chased down by the law? Wasn't that what you said to us the day you popped in?"

The three grown-up men looked at Tom with great suspicion. "Who is this young gentleman, Harry?" Lupin asked warily.

Harry snorted demonstratively. "I wouldn't go so far as to call him a gentleman," he objected firmly. "This is Tom, a guest of ours. He's kind of uninvited, but we have agreed to handle some business for him. Strictly friendly, I'd say."

Lupin regarded him with knitted eyebrows. "Really, Harry? Are you sure that you can trust him?"

"I'd say we're rather sure about that. Dracums and I are simply helping out a friend in need. Tom here seems to have a quite interesting bond to Draco's sister."

Lupin raised both eyebrows in apparent surprise. "Piper?"

Tom turned to the old Professor. "Oh, so you know Piper, then?" he asked curiously.

"Yes, you could say we have a history together."

"Really? Then you must be... hmm, let me see... Remus Lupin, no?" Tom stated, sounding quite sure of his wild guess.

Lupin seemed even more surprised about that. "Yes, that's quite correct. And may I ask how you know Piper?"

The disgusting little sneer was back on Tom's thin lips. "Oh, you could say we have a history together," he said mockingly. "Now, if you excuse me, I have some important business to attend to." He bowed and made his way back to the Manor.

They all looked disliking after him.

"Harry, I would advise you to keep your eyes open at all times concerning that man," Lupin said with concern in his experienced voice.

"I don't trust him," Harry said honestly, "and he knows I don't trust him. Just look at what he's doing to Dracums."

Lupin frowned. "What of it?"

"Tom's to blame for Draco's upset stomach, I am sure of it. Maybe not because he's messed with him magically, but his mere presence makes Draco nervous and upset."

"I can certainly see your point. Look, if you ever have any trouble – of_any_ sort – be sure to let me know, okay?"

Harry nodded.

They left five minutes later to agree upon the best approach when it came to informing the Ministry and the media. The Prophet would be all over this story for a very long time, indeed.

And Draco would be their new hero.

* * *

Tom was waiting for them when they came back to the house, and his expression was not an encouraging one. He was regarding them with a cold calculation and an arrogant expectation, his arms crossed over his chest in a very annoying fashion. Draco wished he could have just punched him right there and sent him flying to the floor with a huge black eye and a few teeth less or something. But he restrained himself, telling himself that they must not provoce him no matter what. "So, you sent after Dumbledore, did you?" he stated, and his deep voice betrayed that he was very irritated with them for doing so.

Harry approached him boldly. "Yeah, we figured that he ought to know that Draco rid this sorry world of the Dark Lord three weeks ago," he said challengingly.

"Really? Well, congratulations, Draco. That was quite an achievement. Although I am sorry to say that it was in vain."

Harry flinched. "What? In vain? Are you stoned or something? How could killing Voldemort have been in vain?"

The smug sneer on Tom's lips broadened. "Because a new Dark Lord will step into the spotlight and take his place within short – you'll all see in the future."

Draco was swiftly running out of patience. He took a step toward Tom. "Who the Hell are you? For every minute that passes I hate you a little bit more, and for every day that passes I get even more convinced that you're as evil as a man can ever be, so tell me: Who the Hell_are_ you?"

To their surprise, Tom laughed – a demonic laughter. "You mean you don't recognise me? Really, Draco, you should have figured it out by now. But, well... I'll give you some more time to think about it before I tell you who I am."

"You little—!"

Two loud _Pop!_s could be heard even over Draco's furious growling, and two shapes materialised only a few feet from the three young men. Draco turned in the direction of the sound and momentarily forgot about the fight he had been picking with Tom. "What the Hell are_you_ doing here?"

Hermione Granger and Ronald Weasley stepped out of the shadows. Hermione went straight up to Draco and Tom, but stopped dead when she saw Tom's face. Baffled, she said, "Harry! You've grown so... grown... How could you age so much in just three weeks?"

Tom stared at her in puzzlement for a moment, then he pointed over at Harry. "I'm not Harry – he is."

Hermione turned in the direction he was pointing and instantly noticed Harry standing there.

Draco saw that Harry was furious about their unannounced visit; he was so angry he was actually shaking. He really had been serious when he told him he never wanted to see Hermione again, that he would never be able to forgive her for giving up on him. Not that Draco blamed him, but... maybe he was a bit harsh in the matter. "Get the Hell out of here and don't you ever come back again," he said with gritted teeth; his hands were clenched at his sides, and he looked as if he was prepared to smack her face with them. Draco wondered if he should stop him, but then he decided not to. This was something that Harry needed to figure out for himself.

Hermione frowned, hesitating slightly. "What do you mean, Harry? And who is that man? He looks like a perfect replica of you, only... older."

Now that she mentioned it... Draco had always thought that there was something awfully familiar about Tom. His black, somewhat messy hair and green eyes were the same as Harry's, and his body structure resembled Harry's as well. But his attitude, his way of carrying himself... _that was_...

Tom bowed to Hermione and withdrew his wand from one of his many pockets. "Allow me to introduce myself," he said in mock politeness. "My name is Tom Malfoy, and I have come to claim what is rightfully mine. Sorry you had to come on such an unfortunate day, Miss Granger, but I can easily make the appropriate arrangements."

Hermione began to say, "What is he talking about?", but only got to the fourth syllable before Tom had pointed his wand at her and uttered the death curse. The smoggy green light hit her right between the eyes, and she fell dead to the floor. This time she had no protection potion, so she was sure not to rise from the dead anew.

Ron reacted in the most peculiar way; instead of screaming in agony and kneeling beside her limp body as one might have expected him to do, or even to throw himself at Tom in pained fury and sorrow, he fled the scene and did not come back.

Draco simply stared at Tom in shock. They had been right all along; there_was_ something fishy about Tom. He_was_ evil. But he had said...

"Malfoy?" Harry wondered. "Tom _Malfoy_? But then you're..."

"No, not really," Tom interrupted. "I bet you were about to guess I'm Draco's cousin or something and that this whole coming-from-the-future-story was only a decoy – but you're wrong. I'm your son."

Everything went dark.

* * *

"Draco?"

When he came to again he saw a fuzzy shape bent over him, and even though he recognised Harry's voice he could not make out his lover's features in the haze in front of him. When he was finally able to focus he noticed that Tom was still standing by the armchair in the corner, looking just as smug as ever. Fearing for his life, he tried to sit up but felt too dizzy to even lift his head properly. "What's the matter, Harry? Why are you sitting here when he's still over there? What if he attacks you or something!"

Harry snorted. "Oh, I don't care about_that_ – I'd much rather make sure that you're alright."

"I won't be alright if you get yourself killed, you fool! You can't survive the bloody _Avada Kedavra_ curse thrice!"

"I know – but it doesn't matter anymore. See?"

"No, I don't bloody see. You're a moron, Harry."

"Thank you. Here, let me help you up. You fainted when Tom said he was..."

Draco stiffened. "Yeah..." He reluctantly met Tom's gaze. "A-are you really... huh?"

Tom laughed unpleasantly. "Yes, _Daddy_. I'm your son. Yours and Harry's."

"Our... our... forgive me, but I just find it hard to believe that we would ever adopt a kid as snotty and arrogant as you."

"Adopt! If only I had been that lucky. No, no, I'm your flesh and blood."

"Flesh and blood?" Harry repeated. "But how is that possible? I mean, isn't it quite obvious that Draco and I are both guys?"

"Sure it is, but that doesn't mean anything, does it?"

"Doesn't... mean anything?"

Tom sighed irritatedly and sat down on the arm of the armchair. "Maybe you should ask Piper – she's the one who can explain this best to you guys." He snapped his fingers, and Piper Malfoy immediately appeared in the middle of the room accompanied by an orchestra of strings and harps. "Aaaah... isn't it just lovely to arrive to such a musical, magical miracle?" she asked them and sighed happily.

Draco threw a book at her. "You're so full of shit. Now would you please explain to me why you were hitting on my son the last time you were here?"

Piper raised an eyebrow in blank astonishment. "Your son? Tom, you mean? But I wasn't hitting on him. Where did you get that idea from?"

"Oh, I don't know... maybe from the way you were acting as if you had known each other two whole lifetimes and..." He fell silent as he realised how it must be. "Wait a minute! You knew who he was when you came here, didn't you? That's why you were joking with him and quarrelling with him in such a casual manner, wasn't it?"

"Of course I knew! I always mock my little nephew!"

"So, you knew but you didn't tell me!" Draco yelled exasperatedly.

Piper yawned. "It was hardly the time to tell you such an important thing – the potion hadn't even started to work by then."

Draco flinched. "What potion?" he demanded.

Piper suddenly shot up from her chair. "Ah! That reminds me!" She conjured up some sort of odd-looking machine and handed it to him. "Blow in this."

He looked at it suspiciously. "Why? You're not going to poison me, are you?"

"No, don't be silly! Why would I poison you? You're my brother! No, this is simply a little machine I built to determine if my Priberty Potion works as it should. Just blow in it, Draco. If the lamp glows green it means you're positive and if it glows red it means you're negative."

She regarded him with impatient anticipation.

Draco's hand began to shake. "Po-positive of what?" he asked nervously. "What have you done to me?"

"Oh, just a little small tiny-tiny-tiny experiment, nothing big really. Now blow."

Against better knowledge, Draco put his lips around the tube-like thingy and blew. A whistle sounded and the little machine immediately began to spew greyish smoke. Draco dropped it because of the shock. When he bent down to pick it up from the floor the whistle grew silent.

"It's ready!" Piper announced. "What colour is it?"

All four of them squinted at the tiny lamp on the machine.

_Green._

Draco whimpered. "What do I have? Smallpox? Measles? _AIDS_?"

Piper laughed at his terrified expression. "Relax, brother! You're only pregnant!"

Draco's eyes were coming out of their sockets. "I-I'm..._What?_ But that's impossible! I can't be pregnant – I'm a bloke!"

His sister grinned at him. "Been feeling sick lately, Drakie-bums?"

"I... I..." Then it hit him. "My upset stomach..." He put his hands to his stomach, shaking with fear.

Harry leaned forward. "Dracums? Are you all right? Dracums?"

Shaking even worse, Draco met his eyes. "Don't you understand what this means, Harry? I'm... I'm carrying _him _inside me. _Him_. I'm carrying a murderer inside me." He ran out of the room, suddenly feeling as if he was about to throw up his guts.

* * *

Harry looked after him with concern in his green eyes.

"What's this about Tom being a murderer?" Piper inquired, nonplussed.

"He killed Hermione just now," Harry informed her and was slightly disgusted with his own cold tone.

"Ah... yeah, of course."

Harry went rigid. "_What?_ You knew about that _too?_"

Piper looked at him as if he had gone mad. "Of course I knew about that – who do you take me for? I_do_ manage Divination quite masterly, you know. There is nothing I can't see in the future. You should know that by now, having known me for two years..."

"Besides," Tom put in, "it was inevitable. Didn't I tell you? Hermione wasn't supposed to see the day that the world was emancipated from the petrifying fear of Lord Voldemort – and now she won't."

Harry lashed out at him. "I know you said that! But that didn't mean you had to kill her!"

Tom grinned mockingly. "I thought you didn't care, father."

"I don't! That's what scares me! I don't care that my best friend of seven years has just been murdered by my supposed son!" Harry yelled at him.

"Not supposed – _ascertained_."

"Whatever. Anyway, how could this even be possible? I mean, Dracums_is_ a bloke, so how on earth can he be _pregnant_?"

"That is rather easy to explain," Piper said in a know-it-all tone of voice. "I was asked to work out a potion that would enable women who couldn't have children to become pregnant by the Healers at St Mungo's. I agreed to do it, of course, because I can totally understand the many women who get depressed because they're not fertile or whatever. But when I was working on it I discovered something utterly interesting... If I altered the original formula somewhat I would be able to make men pregnant, as well, not just women.

"So I developed two different potions. You can probably imagine how the original potion works, so I will only explain the Priberty Potion to you. That's what I gave Dracums. Approximately three hours after digestion it will give the subject a sudden urge to... well, to copulate... and if the subject gets even the slightest trace of semen in his system he will become pregnant. The potion helps the tiny little sperm to travel straight into a free space in the subject's stomach and continues to work all throughout the pregnancy to make sure that nothing goes wrong. Then, after about nine months, when it is time for birth, the potion will signal to the subject that it is time by way of a whistle."

"A whistle?"

"Yeah, it sounds like a whistle, pretty much like the one you heard when the Priberty Measurer worked out Draco's test results," Piper went on. "Pretty clever, isn't it? I figured that Draco would be the perfect test subject for this potion since you two are so lovey-dovey. I have known all along that you two will be the best parents there is because you have so much love for each other."

Harry snorted and glanced sideways at Tom. "Yeah, well, obviously we weren't good enough, because look at the result of our parenting."

"Ah, I think he's a quite good result!" Piper said and roughled through Tom's raven hair.

"Oh, yeah? He just _killed _someone, for crying out loud! Is _that_ what we're supposed to teach our children?"

"Well, Draco killed sixty-seven people only three weeks ago..."

"But that was different! That was in _self-defense_! They would have killed him if he hadn't acted first."

"Sure, but still – _sixty-seven people_..."

"_SHUT UP_!" Harry belched.

Draco returned from the bathroom, pale as a ghost and still very shocked and frightened. But there was also a surprisingly strong determination written in his face. He stopped a few feet from them, probably because he wanted to keep his distance to Tom. "I have made my decision now," he informed them indifferently. "I don't want this baby. Harry, I want you to help me find a spell or a curse or a bloody potion that will help me end this pregnancy because I don't want to bring such an evil creature into the world."

Piper looked stricken. "But that means you're going to kill Tom!" she protested.

Draco gave her a cold look. Sparks of anger were shooting out of his eyes. "That is exactly what I wish to do. I don't want this baby if it's _him_ that I'm carrying. I want to terminate this pregnancy."


	25. As dark as it gets, part 4

**A/N:**In this episode: an emotional farewell, a desperate struggle, attempted murder, the rise of a new Dark Lord (and I bet it's not exactly who you expect it to be...).

Hrm. Making it sound like a TV series may not be such a brilliant idea. (blush)

* * *

**As dark as it gets, part four**

Piper tears in her eyes. She did not want to believe what her little brother had just said. Violently shaking her head in denial, she advanced on Draco, hoping that she looked real intimidating towering over him like that. "You can't do that!" she said emotionally. "You're going to _kill_ Tom!"

Draco boldly met her halfway. "Yeah, and that's exactly what I'm intending to do! You heard me! I don't want no bloody baby now – I just want to have some bloody time alone with Harry, for fuck's sake! We've just gotten back together after a major crisis – I don't want some kind of third party to step in and ruin that, not even if that third party happens to be my son!"

Piper took a step back as if he had slapped her in the face. "I don't believe you, Draco. You can't just kill an innocent child like that! It's wrong!"

"Wrong?_Wrong?_ I'll tell you what's wrong! My sister testing all sorts of new spells and potions on me, that's what's wrong! And if that innocent child happens to be Tom, I will be bloody glad to kill it."

"You don't mean that!"

"I mean too!"

She demonstratively turned her back on Draco. Shaking her head anew, she said, "Fine. But don't try to convince yourself that you'll be able to do it, Drakie-bums. You're too emotionally attached to that baby growing inside you. You won't be able to do it. You will feel too strongly about him."

Draco snorted. "All I feel for that snotty brat is hatred!"

She swirled around to face him again. "You shut up! I won't tolerate you badmouthing my nephew like that! You haven't seen the big picture yet, so I would advice you to put a sock in it!" she hissed threateningly.

"Oh, yeah? Who's side are you on, anyway? He's a freakin' murderer! He _killed_ someone in cold blood! And he's chased by bloody Forgettes from the future! What does that tell you, Piper? Now, if that isn't a failure as a parent I don't know what is, and I'm not prepared to make a mistake that I already know of! I prefer to be oblivious of the mistakes I make, and I intend to keep it that way. Now you help me find some sort of antidote for this!"

"No, I won't! You might find it hard to believe, but I happen to love my nephew! I won't help you kill him! I won't!"

Now Draco was really starting to get raging furious; his face swelled up and became blood red. He pointed his finger at her threateningly. "Watch your mouth, lady!"

Piper could not help but grin mockingly at him. "Hear hear, you already sound like an overprotective Mum, Drakie-poops. Tuning in on that legend maternal instinct, are you?"

Draco was about to burst with wrath. "You—! Who_are_ you? I thought I knew you, but I was obviously wrong! Who the Hell _are _you?"

"I'm a Malfoy! I do what Malfoys have done for over three centuries – I deceive! And so do you, Draco, you're deceiving yourself. Right now you're telling yourself that you don't want this, but I know you do because I see it in your eyes. You've wanted this ever since you fell in love with Harry. I only helped you get there. I'm sorry that I had to lie to you, but what did you expect? I was raised by Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy, too, and even though I never admitted it to myself or anyone else they had great influence on me. So, there you have it. I'm a Malfoy – go figure."

And with those words, she left them, intending never to come back.

* * *

When Harry finally succeeded to make Draco calm down his mind inevitably wandered off into the depths of their new situation. So, they were expecting a child. Was that really what he wanted? Did he even want to become a father? Draco seemed to be very set on terminating his pregnancy as soon as possible, so Harry should not even think about what he wanted; he had no right to. It was Draco's decision to make, and like he said; they should not bring such a vicious creature into the world. Yet... he was their son. They had obviously done something wrong somewhere along the line, but it was not too late to change that, was it? They could still form him into a decent human being, right?

He said nothing of these thoughts to Draco, because he did not want to estrange his lover as Draco had estranged his sister. Exhausted from a long day of painful revelation upon painful revelation, they both went to bed without saying anything to each other. As soon as he had put his head on the pillow, Draco turned his back to Harry and pulled the quilt up to his ears, facing the wall. Harry took it that he was in no mood for talking.

Harry did not get much sleep that night, so he was relieved to hear Draco's steady, calm breathing, an indicator that at least one of them got his much needed beauty sleep. When Draco woke up in the morning he turned around to look at Harry. "Hey," he said, his grey eyes still drowsy with sleep.

Harry smiled faintly at him. "Good morning." He wanted to add a "baby" to his greeting, but thought better of it.

Draco yawned. "It was all a dream, wasn't it?"

Harry frowned. This was not good. This was not good at all. "What was?" he nevertheless asked, deciding to humour the blonde at least for a little while.

Draco laughed bitterly as if everything that had happened was rather silly, really. "Never mind, it can't have been true. Must've been a nightmare. I dreamt that Tom was our son and that Piper told me I was pregnant right after he had killed Hermione."

"Do you want me to lie or just be straight with you?"

Draco stopped laughing and stared at him. "Oh, no... it was true, wasn't it? I _am_ pregnant, aren't I?"

Harry bit his lower lip. "Yeah, I'm afraid you are."

The blonde squirmed onto his back and stared up into the ceiling, saying nothing more. Harry was really worried about him, because he did not have any idea what was going on inside Draco's head at that moment. He wanted to know what he was thinking so he could devise the perfect reassurance strategy. "Are you all right?"

He was silent for a long time before replying. "Yeah... I guess I am. I'm just a bit... shocked."

"I can totally understand why."

"So, is he still here?"

"Who?"

Draco hit him on the arm. "Shuddup! You know who I mean."

"I don't know – you tell me. You're carrying him, right? Shouldn't you be able to sense him if he's here?"

"No, silly fool! I can't do that. It doesn't work that way."

"Tell me how it works then," Harry said and gently pressed his lips to Draco's. Draco automatically returned the kiss and put his arm around Harry's shoulder. Harry took this as an invitation and moved in closer, pressing their bodies tightly together. But when he prepared to take Draco's boxers off the blonde withdrew violently. "Hey! Just _what _do you think you're doing?" he belched accusatory.

Harry blinked in bewilderment. "I'm... I'm taking off your boxers," he said cautiously.

"Well, don't! Keep your bloody hands off me!"

He started to get up from the bed.

Harry regarded him with concern. "Dracums, what's wrong?"

"Don't Dracums me, I know what you're after!"

Draco angrily put his jeans on.

Harry sat up warily. "What are you talking about? I was just trying to be intimate..."

"Yeah, right! That's what all men say nowadays, but all they want is sex!"

"Draco, what are you talking about?"

"You damned well know what I'm talking about!"

"No, honestly, I don't. Why are you so averse to sleep with me all of a sudden? You used to be all for it in all situations. What changed?"

"You made me pregnant with your baby, that's what changed! I'm seventeen and I'm pregnant and I don't have any means whatsoever to support my child and all you want from me is sex! Admit it! Admit it, you bastard!" Tears began to stream down Draco's flushed cheeks.

Feeling as if someone had just stabbed him with a blunt object, Harry hurried up to Draco and embraced him. Weeping, the blonde clinged to him, and his sobs rang in Harry's ears. He did not know how to act to this, let alone what to say that would comfort the blonde.

"Oh, my God...," Draco was sqeaking pathetically, "I'm seventeen and I'm pregnant. I don't have any future – I will just be stuck at home with this kid I can't support. There will be no Auror training for me, I will never be able to get a job... How am I supposed to support this baby? I'm pathetic."

Harry hushed him. "No, you're not pathetic, Draco, I'm sure you'll be a great mother – er, I mean father. You do have resources – you have your heritage, and that is quite a lot of money. You'll be able to support the baby, you'll see. And you've forgotten about something."

Draco snivelled. "What?"

"You've got me," Harry said and kissed the crown of his head.

"Thank you, Harry."

"'Thank you'? I love you, Dracums! Did you really think I would leave because of something so trivial?"

Draco laughed somewhat embarrassedly. "No, not really."

They just stood there for a while, holding each other. It was amazing how much had changed between them since they got back together.

They had never rowed that much before, but neither had they ever been so close.

Harry lovingly stroked the blonde's hair. "So, does this mean that you're keeping the baby?" he asked, careful to use the exact right tone of voice to prevent another outburst from Draco.

"It did sound that way, didn't it?" Draco stated. "Piper was right, wasn't she? I_am_ turning into a mother, aren't I? And to tell you the truth... it's not that I don't want to have your baby, because I do, I just don't want _him_. I haven't changed my mind about this. I don't want this baby. I can't imagine everything we would have to go through with Tom for a son. I want our life to be quiet and perfect, just like you are perfect."

Harry laughed. "I'm not perfect – you are."

"You're just saying that."

"No, I'm not. In my eyes you_are_ perfect, just like I'm perfect in your eyes. It's called love."

Draco pulled out of the embrace and began to search for a clean shirt. "Now let's find that antidote or whatever and get this over and done with before I get too 'emotionally attached' to that brat."

Harry was just about to say, "You already are," when Draco left the room and went to the bathroom for a quick shower.

Harry sighed and went down to the kitchen to have breakfast. Passing the archway that led to the parlour, he noticed Tom standing by the French windows. Apparently he had not left yet. Suspecting the worst, Harry walked up to him and ruthlessly forced him to turn around. "What are you still doing here?" he demanded unpleasantly.

Tom had an eerie glint in his green eyes. "I'm not leaving until I've got what I came for," he said solemnly.

"And what exactly is that?"

"What everybody else wants. Revenge, father." He turned to the windows anew.

Harry decided to be bold and foolish for once. "There never was any friend, was there?" he dared. "It was you all along. You killed those people – that's why the Forgettes are after you. That's why you fled to the past, to dodge your own punishment."

Tom laughed. "You are so right, father. But not entirely, of course. See, I read all about Voldemort and the Death Eaters when I was little. You didn't like me to, of course, but I did anyway. I was intrigued by the way one man managed to gather so many followers and persuade them to convert to the dark side – how could that even be possible? And as I grew up I joined the new Lord, all without your knowledge of course. But then one day you saw the Mark on my arm... that's when I knew I had to get rid of the only obstacle I had of becoming a mighty dark wizard myself—"

He turned to face Harry again.

"—and that was _you_, father. You were the only thing holding me back, the only person who struggled so hard and needlessly to get me back to the 'right' side. I knew I never had to worry about ickle Drakie-bums, because he's still got the Malfoy blood churning in his veins – it's like two different personalities fighting within him. As long as he's with you the true Malfoy within him will remain repressed, but if I get rid of you he might surface again, and together we'll be stronger than ever. Together we can claim the throne before the new Dark Lord steps into view tonight._That's_ why I chose this particular year, because I figured that if you weren't even there to raise me you wouldn't be able to hamper Draco at all."

Harry took a dizzy step backwards because of the shock that struck him after hearing that devious monologue. It was too much to process at once, and a million zillion confusing things were swirling around deep down in the depths of his mind, all of them poking on his consciousness, trying to make themselves acknowledged. He did not understanding what the urgent voices inside his head was saying, but he knew all too well what they meant; he was as good as dead. This was his death sentence, and he had been convicted by none other than his own son.

Even though he hated this dark-haired man intently for what he had put him and Draco through during these three weeks of acquaintance he was torn between loathe and love. Because regardless of what this man had done – the things that Harry had witnessed as well as the things that had merely been implied by a third party – he loved his son, which was utterly absurd since he did not even exist yet. Technically they had not even met yet. Still Harry felt as if he had watched his boy grow up to become the man that now stood before him.

The darkness in those green eyes was alarming, and the cold-heartedness in them scared Harry, yet he could not help but notice how much they looked like his eyes – and his eyes were the eyes of his mother. Tom even had the same messy hair as Harry, the same physical structure... and he sure as Hell had Draco's temper, attitude, air of superiourity, and way of carrying himself. Now it seemed so obvious – why had not he noticed that before? He had thought there was something familiar about Tom, but it was incredible that he had not noticed these things right away because they were so obvious.

He really was their son, and it seemed as if the combination Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter was a lethal one; Tom was a ticking bomb that could explode any second without the least bit of warning preceeding total destruction.

Tom raised his wand and pointed it straight at Harry's heart as if he knew about the emotional battle that was currently taking place inside his very young father. "Any last words, _father_?"

Harry thought quickly. The best strategy would probably be to provoke him into indecision and stall him long enough for Draco to get out of the shower and come looking for him – that way he might have a chance to live. If he had had his wand it would have been so much easier. "If you kill me it will only make Draco more determined to force a miscarriage, Tom," he said indifferently, showing no emotions at all to create a fake self-confidence. "He won't have any inhibitions anymore – he'll simply avenge my death by killing you. Maybe even twice," he added in order to threat the life of both baby Tom and grown Tom.

Unfortunately it had no effect on his son; he simply threw his head back in a very arrogant fashion and laughed. "I'm not worried," he said, amused by Harry's ludicrous belief that everything would turn out all right, "I'm still here, aren't I? Isn't that proof that your dear Draco never terminated his pregnancy as he claims to want to do? If you killed me in 2004, how is it that I could live to be 21 and come back to that very year of conception? Huh? What's the matter, pops? No quick remarks?"

Harry indeed had nothing to say to this, because he realised the hopelessness in his situation. And he had to admit that there was much truth in what Tom said. Hermione had many a time given him lectures about time travelling and suchlike, and she had always been very determined to make him understand that things that had already happened could not be reversed. Since Tom stood before him now, a grown man, that meant Draco ultimately decided to have him. And it already seemed to be going in that direction, what with Draco's outburst that morning...

With a self-righteous smirk on his baby-smooth face, Tom said, "I do have a future, father, it has been proven so, but I am sorry I can't say the same thing about you."

Just as Tom was about to utter the curse, something utterly strange happened. A young man, probably of Harry's own age, with silver blonde hair and smart, expensive looking clothes appeared out of nowhere and threw himself at Tom, shouting: "Tom, no!" Tom was so stunned by the attack that he fell to the floor, getting entangled with the stranger and knocked out as his head hit the edge of a nearby coffee table. Harry stared at them in utter disbelief and shock. He took a step towards them. "You saved my life," he said blankly, "thank you. But who are you?"

The blonde stranger lifted his head to look at Harry, and Harry had the peculiar notion that it would be Draco's face looking up at him, that his lover had somehow learnt of Tom's intentions and Apparated down there to prevent it all, and curiously enough he was disappointed when he saw that that was not the case. But the lines in the stranger's face did visually resemble Draco, only his eyes were startlingly green, not grey. _Could this be...?_

No, it was not possible...

_Was it?_

"Glad to be of your assistance," the boy said with a low, melodic voice.

Tom groaned and started to pull himself up from the floor. Harry made a wry face and snorted. "Why couldn't you just have been knocked out for good? It would've saved us all the trouble of dealing with your foetus."

Too late he realised that Tom was reaching for his wand, which had flown out of his hand when the stranger attacked him. The blonde lad, however, saw it and hurried to reach it before Tom. Their fingers touched the wand simultaneously, but it was the stranger who grasped it and ultimately directed it at Tom. He opened his mouth to speak something, but a shriek from the doorway interrupted him.

"_No!_"

The stranger went flying through the air and landed some five feet away from them. He did not get up again.

Harry turned in fright to find Draco standing in the archway, his face flustered with anger and something else that he could not quite identify. "What are you _doing_?" he exclaimed and went over to his lover.

Draco gave him a murderous look and then pointed at the blonde boy. "He tried to hurt my baby!"

Harry was completely taken aback when hearing that come out of Draco's mouth. It seemed as if the blonde indeed_had_ made his decision already – and it was not the one he thought himself. "But Tom tried to kill me – and that boy over there saved me! He popped in out of nowhere and tackled Tom, and what you saw was Tom trying to reach his wand to finish what he started!" he shouted, beside himself with angry astonishment and disbelief.

Draco's grey eyes narrowed. "_What_?" He turned to look at Tom, who was still on the floor, obviously in some pain. "You tried to kill my Harry, you ungrateful bastard child! Okay, that's it, that does it! That was the last straw, and I don't care what happens to me anymore! I'll get myself drunk and take my father's car and drive it off a cliff or something, because if that doesn't put an end to this nightmare I don't know what will!"

And with those words he zoomed into the den, heading straight for his father's liquor cabinet. Harry went after him, panic rising within him. "Dracums, no! You can't do that! You'll kill yourself!"

"I don't care!"

"But I won't let you!" Harry shouted and grabbed Draco's arm and forced him to turn around and face him. "Listen to me, Draco! This won't make any difference! Don't you see? Your mind is already made up!"

Draco yanked free of his hand and glowered at him with eyes almost black with fury. "What the Hell is _that_ supposed to mean?"

Harry took a step backwards to allow Draco some breathing space. "Don't you see, Draco? That Tom is in there is proof that you never got rid of him – you kept the baby and gave birth to him. Don't you see? It's already been done, otherwise he wouldn't have been able to be here."

His words seemed to sink in quite well, which he was glad at. He hatedrowing with Draco like this, but it seemed to be all they ever did since they learnt the truth about Tom.

The blonde took a few deep breaths, and said, "Then let's change that. Let's find that potion. I know I've read about it somewhere, it has to be in one of my books. As soon as we've gotten rid of the foetus, the future Tom will cease to exist as well, right?"

Harry was silent. It was heart-breaking to see Draco deny it like that.

"Okay, let's go look through those books, then."

"Dracums..."

Draco stopped in the doorway and looked back at him. "What?"

"You protected him just now."

"Yeah? But that was before I knew he'd tried to kill you."

"You knew he wanted to kill me even before that. You told me so, but I didn't want to listen."

"Piper was there, he wouldn't have killed you in front of her."

"He didn't care when he killed Hermione in front of us," Harry objected.

"That's a completely different situation..."

"Oh, yeah? Exactly how was that different, Draco?"

"Well, because... because he wanted to prove himself to us or something. I don't know! Quit asking me all these stupid questions and get busy reading already!" He walked out of the den before Harry could say anything else. Sighing, he followed him, but stopped dead just inside the door in the parlour. Before him, Tom was standing with his arm around the blonde boy's throat, his wand in his hand anew and now pointing straight at the boy's left temple. Draco had frozen just two steps in front of Harry and was staring wide-eyed at them with fright in his whole body.

"Stand back!" Tom shouted. "Stand back or I'll kill him! I bet you wouldn't want that, Harry, would you? You've figured out who he is, haven't you?"

Harry swallowed hard. Yes, he thought he knew who this kid was.

And he did not wish to see him dead.

"Harry, what is he doing?" Draco asked, his voice trembling noticably.

"Beats me," Harry replied.

Tom fixed his eyes on Harry's and nodded to the right of him. "You! Come here! _NOW_!"

Harry had no choice but to obey. The moment he got within reach of Tom, Tom shouted, "Toki portalis ouvrir!", and a transparent, shimmering oval disc of approximately eight feet in diametre opened itself two feet from Tom and his hostage, and he brutally threw the boy at the disc – whereupon he vanished and the disc closed itself around him.

Harry cried out in surprise and stumbled backwards. Before he could act, Tom had sprung forward and grasped him. Now_he_ was the hostage. "There! Now that I've gotten rid of that little bugger we can get down to business."

Harry immediately understood what Tom was getting at – and it had probably been his intention right from the very start. He wanted to convert Draco to the dark side once more, and now that he had failed to kill Harry he would use him as an insurance. He would use him to get Draco to do what he wanted – and Harry knew that Draco would oblige, after some resistance. He just wished he had brought his wand with him downstairs, because now it seemed so stupid to be walking around the Manor without it, knowing that Tom was there, knowing his nature, knowing what he was capable of. But the thought just never crossed his mind.

"Daddy, I want you to listen carefully if you want your loverboy to stay alive," Tom said to Draco, "because it seems that you have totally missed the point here, and, really, I thought you were smarter than that. Or is it just that you are partist since you're currently carrying me inside the synthetic wound Auntie Piper created fer ya? You see, what I want, and what I've wanted ever since I was nine years old, is to become the new Dark Lord and introduce a new dark regime to the world. I want to rule over all magic and every single living creature – I want to bring eternal darkness to this sorry place! But, you see, there is a slight problem... a new Dark Lord will rise tonight unless we stop him, and_that_ is what I've been planning all along. I don't really need Harry here, he'll only be in the way, but if it'll help me get your support in this, Daddy, I'll keep him alive for you. I'll seal him in this house, using magic to make sure that he can't escape and that no-one can get in from the outside to help him. So, you help me steal my throne and I'll spare your lover. What do you say, Daddy? Do we have a deal?"

During Tom's entire speech, Draco stood open-mouthed and stared at him unseeingly as if he had gone into some sort of internal dream landscape with no intention to return. Maybe all the events of the past few weeks had finally played its due and sent him flying into the depths of insanity; maybe it was the only thing left for him now. Harry hoped to God that was not the case. After standing there in utter and somewhat disturbing silence for several seconds after Tom's offering him the deal, Draco shook his paralysis and slowly nodded.

"You have a deal," he said solemnly.

Harry could not believe his ears. What? No fight? Just a simple "okay" and that was that? It was actually kind of dissatisfactory – an anti-climax, indeed.

Tom laughed, self-satisfied. "I'm glad you're in understandment of the seriousness of this situation," he said, and loosened his grip on Harry somewhat. "I'm confident we'll have world domination within ten hours when we're working together."

"I'm sure we will," Draco agreed gloomily. "But there is one thing I need to ask you first."

The smile faded from Tom's delusional face. "What? You're gonna start _making demands_ now, too?"

Draco shook his head. "Not 'demands' in plural; just A demand. I ask to get one hour alone with Harry before we set out on our... duties."

"What? You're in no position to make such a demand!"

"I am not asking much. Simply an hour together with my boyfriend before I allow myself to go dark."

"No way! I simply can't have that!"

"You owe me, Tom. After all, I am your father, right? You keep calling me 'Daddy' with evident respect, but when you address Harry there is only scorn in your voice. Can't you give your Daddy just one hour to say goodbye to the love of his life?"

Tom appeared to be in obvious indecision about this, because he kept opening and closing his mouth like a fish. Ultimately, he nodded very reluctantly and let go of Harry altogether. "Alright. But only an hour. And when I come back here I expect to find you right on this spot, ready to leave. If there is any kind of delay, I will kill him. Alright?"

When they were finally left alone, Draco ran up to him and threw himself in his arms; tears were running down his cheeks. "I'm sorry, Harry, I'm so sorry... I never should've run out like that before, it was stupid of me. Had I only stayed in here we would have been in control of the situation, but now... now I'm forced to do his dirty work and help him become the new Lord Voldemort!"

Harry soothed him. "Sssch, it's not your fault. And you don't need to do anything, we can be well prepared for his return. We'll just get our wands, practice a few spells—"

"No! I want to spend this hour with you, I don't want to waste it on spells that will be in vain. We'll get our arses out of this trouble somehow, I know we will, but right now I just want to be with you. I want to make love to you one last time – maybe two, if you're up for it."

"You say it as if you believe we'll be dead in a few hours..."

"We might be – who knows? Please, Harry, don't think this over too much, let's just have this moment together..."

He pressed his lips to Harry's very gently, and Harry died a little the moment he understood just how serious Draco was to go through with it; it was all there in the vulnerability in his kiss. Involuntarily realising the severity of the low they had reached, Harry was determined to ease some of Draco's pain and, if possible, make him calmer, providing him with some security at least for an hour. Therefore he made no effort to protest to the suggested idea, but simply escorted Draco to their bedroom on the third floor and carefully closed the door behind them.

Harry was prepared to play his usual role of the one taking all the initiatives, since that seemed to be what Draco liked most – and what Harry liked most was for Draco to be pleased – and was therefore surprised when Draco swiftly undressed both himself and Harry and pushed Harry down on top of the bed. Not one second did their tongues part, and they never broke eye contact as if they were magnets drawn to each other. Keeping eye contact was like a flash of extra desire intriguing them and sparking their relationship further.

Draco placed semi-wet kisses along Harry's jawline, occasionally pausing to suck on a particular spot of extra sensitive skin, then moving down to his neck, teasingly nibbling at his earlobe. Harry responded by kissing Draco's forehead and gently massaging the blonde's shoulders. He forgot all their troubles when he felt his lover's tongue on his chest and belly, painting intricate patterns and pictures on his prickling skin, leaving hot traces of saliva like the phlegmy traces a slug left in its wake – but pleasant ones.

But Draco did not stop there, he went further down, further down... took Harry in his mouth, using his tongue and his lips – and sometimes even his teeth, but very carefully – to make Harry gasp and buck and tense. Harry put his hands on Draco's head, his fingertips boring into the blonde's skull to urge him on, and Draco sucked harder, harder, moving his mouth faster over Harry's erection and Harry instinctively lifted his hips in response, meeting his lover half-way, uttering low, guttural noises, taking an even firmer grip on Draco's skull. And like clockwork a tinkling sensation started to spread from the region around his crotch up through the rest of his body, sending sparks through his nervous system, tremours rising from within, and tiny dots of golden light appeared in his periphery.

Draco noticed the change and stopped sucking. "Hey! Wait for me!" he warned with a wide, mocking smile on his perfect lips. Harry nodded very swiftly and turned around. Lost in his world of pleasure as he was he could percept quite what Draco wanted him to do. "Why are you lying on your stomach now?" Draco asked. "I wanna see your face when I make you scream, so turn back around – _chop, chop_!"

Harry did as he was told, eager to continue, and Draco maintained that mocking smile as he slowly, sensually licked his own fingers and coated his erection with his saliva before entering Harry. As he pushed inside, Harry gasped violently, feeling as if the wind had been knocked out of him – but in a pleasant sort of way. It has been some time since he had been the one pleasured, and he had almost forgotten how wonderful it felt. He was so used to being on top, always so attentive to Draco's reactions and motions that he found it hard to relax and let Draco 'repay him the favour.'

When Draco began to thrust forcefully he quickly forgot about it, though. Filled once more with the lovely tinkling sensations and the rising tremble and the sparkling golden specks of light in his periphery he indulged himself fully, rising to receive each thrust with great enthusiasm. They were perfectly synchronised; their shallow, quick breathing; their pounding heartbeats; the rhythm of their lovemaking; the very movement of their fluttering lashes; perfectly synchronised, and Harry could not tell his body from Draco's anymore – they were one. One entity that floated somewhere between reality and illusion, and it was the most wonderful feeling he had ever experienced.

They were closing in now, they were racing towards goal, side by side, and Draco spontaneously took Harry's hand in his. Shouting each other's names, they reached physical climax, but it was nothing like the emotional climax they were simultaneously experiencing. Their lives being threatened, they had become more affected than they had initially thought, and their need of intimacy was greater than ever. Afterwards, they lay still, holding each other, enjoying the silence. Harry slid down and kissed Draco's stomach affectionately, consciously acknowledging the third person in that room.

When he had slid back up, Draco was watching him with wonder in his silver eyes. "Harry... why did you do that?" he asked without believing that Harry could actually do such a thing.

Harry's face lit up in a smile of genuine happiness. "I was simply expressing my love for the people that are most important to me," he replied with honesty.

The blonde was silent for a long while. "Harry... do you think I'm doing the wrong thing?"

Harry gazed up at him with semi-knitted eyebrows. "What d'you mean?"

"About the baby, I mean. Do you think we should continue our search, or should we keep it?"

"I don't really think I have any say in this – it's your body, your decision to make. I don't want to express myself in this matter."

Draco looked him deep into the eyes. "You don't need to. That kiss said more than a thousand words. You think I'm doing the wrong thing. You think we should keep the baby, don't you? You don't need to feel afraid of answering, I won't get mad."

Harry did not need to think it over. "I've kind of become fond of the idea of becoming a father, to be honest with you. This whole thing about you being pregnant... it has sort of grown on me. There is still time for us to prevent the mistakes we made... er, will make... and we can still prevent Tom from growing up to be cold and heartless. We have twenty-one years, Draco. That is a lot of time."

Draco sighed and put his forehead on Harry's chest. "I know, I just... I say that we look up that potion, just in case. As a back-up plan, you know, in case we need to take drastic action in order to stop Tom from becoming the Dark Lord."

"I guess I'll have to agree with you. Okay, so I'll search for the potion, then."

"Why you?"

"I'm going to be stuck here anyway, aren't I? Tom will magically lock me in this house until you have helped him with whatever... might as well use the time."

"You're right. And during that time I will try to find a way to get around Tom's magic and get back inside the house to grab the potion."  
Time was almost up.

They got up from the bed and started to get dressed.

* * *

When Tom returned he had a very urgent and impatient expression on his face, and it was clear that he was very agitated over something. He could not stand still, and he kept glancing at his wrist watch. "Something's happening – something big," he told Draco, "we need to go right away if we're to make any difference to the time continuum."

Draco looked dumbstruck. "The time what?"

Tom sighed irritatedly. "Never you mind. It's beyond you, anyway. You couldn't possibly grasp the dynamics of time travelling even if you bothered your little blonde head."

"Hey! Don't try to imply that I'm some sort of airhead, mister! I'll be sure to cut you short of your allowance for the upcoming ten years, be so sure!"

"Oooh, you are really scaring me, Daddy. Really, is that the best you can do? Now get your lazy arse over here so we can go. You!" He pointed at Harry. "You're staying here – for ever."

They vanished before Harry had any time to object. The first thing he did once they had left was to try the windows and see if Tom really had put a magical seal on the house. He threw a book at one of the French windows, and once it hit the plain glass surface it was struck by at least a dozen orange flashes of strong electrical energy which would probably have killed Harry had he tried to open it. "Great," he said to himself. "Now what do I do?"

"I think you might find this of interest," a voice said from behind him.

Startled, he swirled around to see who was there.

It was the blond boy from earlier that day. Harry relaxed. "How did you get in here?" he asked, amazed and impressed. "Tom sealed the house with some powerful magic."

The boy's green eyes shone eerily in the gloom. "That magic does not apply to the laws of time travelling," he stated. "Here. Read this, it will help you understand what is going on outside right now."

The boy was holding tomorrow's edition of The Daily Prophet. Harry took it and looked at the front page. The headline struck him like a blow to the head.Y_esterday evening several witches and wizards witnessed the rise of a new Dark Lord_. There was a picture beneath the headline, probably taken from one of the onlookers without the Dark Lord's knowledge – or maybe he had even ordered the photograph to be taken himself to make sure that every single witch and wizard learnt of his 'taking over the throne' after Voldemort, so to speak.

But what nonplussed and shocked Harry so much was not the fact that a new Dark Lord had risen – or was in this very minute rising – but_who_ it was. It was just too unbelievable to be true, yet the man in the picture could be no-one else. He was hovering a few yeards above ground, wearing a long black cloak, and the smile on his face was one of utter evil.

The man was Percy Weasley.

* * *

**A/N: **The next chapter will be the last in the _As dark as it gets_-part of the story... and I still have a few twists left up my sleeve. ;) And when _As dark as it gets_ ends a new series of 16 chapters will take its place, continuing approximately a year after this. The story will just go on and on and on... hehe. :P Hope you've enjoyed these two chapters. I will wait a day or two before publishing the fifth part for the sake of the cliffhanger, haha... (mischievous laughter) See ya all soon. 


	26. As dark as it gets, part 5

**A/N:** Here's the last part of _As dark as it gets_, but don't worry, this will not be the ultimate and definite end... I still have a few twists up my sleeve. (Sorry for taking me so long to update!)

* * *

**As dark as it gets,Chapter five**

Harry's hands were shaking so bad he almost dropped the paper on the floor. With his head spinning and his heart pounding so hard it hurt, almost as if it was pounding directly and mercilessly against his ribcage, he lifted his gaze to look at the boy. "How could this happen? How could... _Percy_? He's always been this... this model student and later even _model employee_ at the Ministry for Magic - I mean, he always spoke so proudly and superciliouslyof his duties, andof his employer. He was a real pain in the arse about it, but he was never _evil_."

The blonde boy studied him with an enigmatic look in his bright, green eyes, and in them Harry percieved a maturity and an awareness of the cruelties of the world that seemed to be too much for someone so young. That degree of awareness should be beyond him, and the fact that Harry recognised himself in this boy made his heart swell with sorrow. "I am uncertain of just how much I ought to tell you about this," the boy said hesitantly. "I am merely figuring as a messanger, and the person who sent me just told me to give you the newspaper."

"But who are you? And who sent you?" Harry asked, confused by the new twist of events.

The boy hesitated anew. "I am not supposed to tell you that."

Harry decided to be bold and acted on a whim that might throw him into even darker waters and further fuel his confusion. But he had to trust his instincts, because if he was confined to just his five senses he did not know how long he would survive in that house. Taking a step towards the blond boy, he said, "But you are Tom's brother, aren't you? That's how you knew where to find him. That's how you were able to prevent him from killing me. You're my... son."

Instead of answering, the boy closed his eyes and lowered his shut gaze. "She is calling me back. I have to leave now. Forgive me." Just like Tom had done earlier that evening, the boy uttered a strange spell and a disc appeared behind him. Only this time it was not entirely transparent; Harry could see parts of the world that the boy was about to step into, including the hint of a young woman with long, silky black hair. A second later it was all gone.

Harry sank down to the floor.

He was alone again, and even though he had been alone for the better part of ten years of his life he had never felt quite alone - at least not that strongly.

"I miss you, Draco. You'd better come back to me alive, because I can't go through all that pain and frustration following your amnesia again. I can't go through that again. Come back to me, Draco. Please."

* * *

It was already getting dark, but it seemed way too early for late July. The sky was turning an ominous purple with heavy storm clouds forming above the trees. Shadows were chasing around their legs as Tom shifted his illuminating wand from one hand to the other. They were walking through a thick forest, and for some reason Draco could feel snow under his feet, and he could feel the cold air of winter brush against his cheek and pour into his lungs. For a moment he could even see a puff of hot breath form a tiny cloud in front of him as it left his mouth. Why did he have the feeling that he had been there before?

"Where are you taking me?" he inquired as Tom led him deeper into the forest. He knew that Tom would never kill him since he was actually carrying him inside his stomach at that very moment, because if he killed Draco he would automatically kill himself. Still Draco felt as if he was being led to his own execution.

Tom would not say anything, but simply pushed Draco a little harder in front of him. The tip of his wand poked into the small of Draco's back. They came to a clearing in the middle of the forest, and suddenly Draco knew exactly where they were.

A scream in the night. Darkness, cold, the forest. Witches and wizards fleeing in a panic in every direction. A Muggle family hovering high up in the air; the conjuring of the Dark Mark with none other than Harry Potter's wand.

The World Quidditch Cup four years ago, right before they started their fourth year at Hogwarts. They were back in the forest where Harry, Ron, and Hermione had happened to run past him, and he had seized the golden opportunity to mock them. Something sharp pierced his heart when he recalled how he had told Hermione that the Death Eaters would seek her out because she was a Muggleborn. Now she was dead, and indirectly that was his fault. Unconsciously, he put a hand on his stomach. A monster. He was carrying a monster. He remembered all too well what Tom had said about his 'friend': _"He impersonated me to save his own arse and make the Forgettes believe that I was the one who killed the Minister."_ The Minister for Magic? And Draco knew how it must be. There was no friend - only Tom. His spawn had killed the Minister for Magic, and now he was going to take He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's place as the leader for the Death Eaters.

But why was he remembering _snow_? Why was he freezing so bloody much? The Quidditch World Cup had taken place in the early summer, had not it? Why was he remembering snow?

Tom were poking him in the back again. "Dad, why have you stopped?" he wondered warily. "We need to move if we're going to make a difference."

Draco blinked at him. "Hmm?"

"Stopped. Why have you stopped?" Tom looked down at the hand that Draco was holding over his stomach. "Everything all right? Are you having complications?"

Draco frowned. "What? Oh, that. No, no, I'm fine, I just... remembered something."

"Quidditch Cup, eh? Yeah, I know some strange things happened that night, read all about it in the papers when I was researching your life. But there was something even more important happening in this forest, a few years back..."

"What? What happened?" Draco felt a sudden urge to grab Tom's collar and shake the answer out of him. The snow was under his feet again. _The cold air..._

Tom smirked. "Father figured it all out eventually, didn't he?"

"You talking about Harry now?"

"You're a quick study, Daddy. I'm glad."

"Why do you hate him?" Draco asked.

Tom seemed to be taken aback by his question. "What d'you mean?"

"Why do you hate Harry so much? It is all there in your voice when you talk about him, and I can see it burning in your eyes. It's consuming you, Tom. Why do you hate him when he's the one who loves you unconditionally despite everything you have done? Why don't you hate _me_ when _I'm_ unable to love you even though you're _my own son_? Why do you hate him when_he's_ trying to convince_me_ to keep you, when_he's_ the one who wants you to live? Tell me, Tom, because I don't understand. I just don't understand why I can't love you."

Tears blurred his vision.

Tom stared at him with an expression of utter bewilderment, obviously at a loss for words. Draco wished he would just say something - anything - that would prove that he had a warm heart worth loving, because Draco desperately wanted to feel what he had seen in Harry's eyes only an hour earlier. The thought of terminating the pregnancy had never crossed Harry's mind, not even when Tom tried to kill him. There had to be a reason why Harry loved him if he could forgive him for something like that, because Harry did not just love anyone; you had to _earn _Harry's love.

Suddenly weak-kneed, Draco sank down on the dirty ground - _snow, cold hands that longed for mittens, hot breath in puffs of white smoke, stray limbs between the trees, blood on his shirt_ - with eyes still fixed on the dark-hairedmanwho was a combination of him and Harry. Tears now streaming down his face, Draco cried out, "Why can't I love you? I keep protecting you, I keep saying things that make it clear to other people that I want this, that I want _you_, _but why can't I love you?_ It's just an instinct, a primitive bloody maternal instinct... Technically I'm your mother, but all I can feel for you is _hatred_. Not Harry. Harry loves you despite the fact that you almost killed him. He doesn't care that you hate him, Tom. He sees something good in you that I can't see, and it depresses me. I can't see anything good in my own child - I'm pathetic. I'm a failure, that's why you turned on us, right? I failed in being your father, that's why you turned to You-Know-Who, right?"

"_NO_!" Tom's sudden outbirst made Draco jump. "No! You never failed! You were always the perfect parent, Dad. You were always there for me - you both were. In fact, you were kind of neurotic about us kids, and Harry was always the one to calm you down. You worried too much about us, Dad."

Draco snivelled. " 'Us'?"

"Did you think I was the only one? You guys had waytoo much love to settle for just one child."

"Then what went wrong, Tom? Explain it to me, because I don't understand."

Tom kneeled before him, and for the first time since he had fallen through the wall in their bathroom he actually showed signs of humility. He even took Draco's shaking hand in both of his. "He made you waste away a significant heritage. Made you forget that you were a Malfoy and forced you to live in his shadow - the spouse of The Boy Who Lived. Don't you understand what a privilege that is? Being a Malfoy? But Harry made you repress who you really are and turned you into a wussy nancy boy who just had his children. He turned you into a woman, Dad, and that is a disgrace to our name."

Draco was firmly shaking his head. "No,_this_ is who I really am, Tom - this is who I have always been. Harry brought that out in me. He made me realise that I'm okay as I am - I don't need to pretend when I'm around him. All those years I wasted trying to live up to my name and my father's reputation -_that_ was an act! That wasn't me, Tom. I thought my father was leading a respectful life, but he turned out to be a simple murderer, an evil man, and I hated him for deceiving me like that, for tricking me into becoming like him. I don't want to be a Malfoy if that's what it means to live up to the family name. I don't want to be a cold-blooded murderer. Harry opened my eyes to the _world_, Tom, and I am incredibly grateful for it. There is no honour in carrying on the Malfoy traditions - I would rather be a Potter. If you see me as a wussy nancy boy, then I'm sorry for you." He got up from the cold ground. "You still have a chance to change your mind, Tom. You don't have to do this. You can return to the future and let Harry and me do our jobs."

Tom violently shook his head. "No." He walked past Draco.

Draco turned to look after him. "Why did we name you Tom?"

The dark-haired man stopped dead in his tracks. "Excuse me?"

"Your name. Why Tom? I've never been particularly fond of that name."

After a moment's silence, Tom said: "It was a cry for help."

Draco opened his mouth to ask him what he meant when a bright orange-red light lit up the clearing - and suddenly the forest had disappeared around them. For a moment Draco could see three small children running around a dimly lit study, all three of them laughing hysterically, but the next second their surroundings had changed to a familiar corner of Diagon Alley, and there were other people around. Somewhat hazily, Draco realised that Tom must have used a time portal to move them there. Glancing around him, Draco spotted a dark figure amongst the witches and wizards in the crowd, and for some reason it sent shivers down his spine. The dark figure stepped into the spotlight, so to speak, and lifted its hood to reveal itself.

It was that Weasley bloke, Ron's older brother, the Perfect Prefect.

Draco frowned. What was this? Some sort of joke? Had not they come to stop the new Dark Lord from taking his rightful place in the foodchain? So, why were they all staring at Weasley? He could not be of any interest to Tom - could he?

But then Weasley rose from the ground and hovered approximately twenty feet above them. He stretched out his arms at his sides and a bright yellow-white light erupted from the palms of his hands, lighting up the all-too-dark July night. His hair floated in the air above his head as if he was full of static energy. Not willing to realise what this must mean, Draco turned to Tom for guidance.

The expression on Tom's face was one of utmost disappointment. "We came too late. Shouldn't have taken that detourthrough the forest... but I just wanted to remind you about who you are, and I... Anyway, it has already been done. My master has taken his place. There is no turning back time now."

Draco blinked. "What d'you mean? Weasley can't possibly..."

"Listen up, you fools for witches and wizards!" Weasley's deep voice was hollering. "You have probably all heard about the Dark Lord's death by now, and you have probably celebrated his demise ever since you learnt of it, and that is why I have summoned you here tonight. You are important people in the magic community. Ministry employees, Healers, reporters, scientists, Aurors... I welcome you. You probably know me as Percy Weasley--" Draco snorted; did he really think that the entire magic community knew him just because he did some paper work for the Ministry? "--important employee at the Ministry for Magic, but from now on you can call me Lord Pywercaseley. That's right - I'm taking Voldemort's place as the leader of the Death Eaters, and I can promise you that I won't be as gentle as he was. From now on you will see many changes around here, and we won't stop here, either. I have gathered followers all over the world. Within 10 years I will have made this planet mine, and you will all be my slaves! Any questions? Didn't think so."

Without another word, he vanished and left only a stale smell behind.

Draco could not believe it. Percy Weasley - the new Dark Lord? Had the entire world gone bananas overnight? And what was with that 'Lord Pywercaseley'? Was that really the best name that Weasley bloke could come up with? At least Tom Marvolo Riddle had been imaginative...

Suddenly something hit him.

"Tom Marvolo Riddle. Lord Voldemort. All your studies, your demented dreams... You took his name."

Tom was regarding him with silent resignation. "So, you finally figured that out?"

"Yes, that part, but I still don't understand _why_."

"Maybe you will one day," Tom said melancholically.

"What? You're leaving us?" For some reason Draco was not as keen on getting rid of him anymore. He felt as if he was finally receiving some of those answers he had requested, and they were precisely the ones he had wanted.

With a stern expression on his face, Tom took Draco's hand in his and began to transport them somewhere else.

Panicking, Draco yelled: "Hey! Where are you taking me?"

A sad smile came to Tom's face. "Don't worry. I won't do anything to risk the existence of mini-me inside of you. Although, it would make things easier... I wouldn't have to go through all this... maybe I would just float off into oblivion, a foetus never born. But I guess there is still time for redemption."

"Redemption? What are you talking about?"

But no answer came, only orange-red light.

* * *

After many hours of frantic search he finally found it. An anti-pregnancy potion. He was sure that there were easier and less painful methods of inducing a miscarriage in the Muggle world, but he could not take Draco to a regular hospital. If a pregnant boy showed up demanding an abortion they were bound to make him their very next guinea pig in fertilising issues - and how the bloody Hell would they explain how he got pregnant in the first place?

The Healers at St Mungo's could probably help a great deal, but they knew nothing of Piper's Priberty Potion; they thought she had only developed the potion for women that they had asked her to conconct for them. Draco's pregnancy would most certainly blow up to the most amazing story of the year - not counting the rise of the new Dark Lord, of course... They would never have any privacy anymore, not as The Boy Who Lived Twice and The Boy Who Gave Birth. They would be beyond famous.

This potion was Draco's only hope - and it pained Harry that his lover was so determined to go through with it.

He anxiously glanced at the clock on the wall.

They had been gone for almost four hours now, and there had been no more visits from the blond boy. He had been hoping to get another chance to ask him whether or not he_was_ Tom's brother. Because if he was... he and Draco were destined to have more children, not just this one son. It was amazing how their love for each other was going to result in the birth of most veritable little living creatures, created out of love.

"Dammit, Dracums, where are you?"

Luckily they had all the ingredients for the potion in store so he could easily conconct it. It took only 80 minutes, and as soon as it was finished he poured some into a small bottle for Draco. Agitated and restless he spent the rest of the night pacing the parlour, because that was where he had last seen Draco; were his lover to return Harry was sure that he would return to that very spot. He walked to and fro for hours until his legs felt like jelly and he had to sit down. Exhausted from worrying so much, he fell asleep at early dawn.

Something brushed against his cheek. He wrinkled up his face and stubbornly turned the other way. He was dreaming that he was taking the Knight Bus to the Leaky Cauldron in London.

"Harry? Harry, are you awake?"

"Go away, I only haveone block left."

"Harry, wake up." Someone shook him lightly, and when he began to rise from the depths of sleep and recognised the soft voice speaking to him he instantly opened his eyes and swirled around.

Draco was kneeling beside him, a wonderful, beautiful smile on his pale face. Harry swiftly threw his arms around him. "You're here! You're not a dream!"

Draco laughed. "No, I'm real alright."

Harry kissed him. "You can't imagine how much I've missed you, Dracums. But how did you get in?"

"I got reinforcements."

Harry frowned and looked over Draco's shoulder.

Piper came out of the den with her mouth full of carrots. "Don't you have any peppers around here? I wanted to make an omelette for breakfast."

Draco sighed irritatedly. "Can't you use anything else than peppers? We have tomatoes."

"Sick of 'em."

"Cucumber?"

"In an omelette? What - are you crazy?"

"Maybe I am, I went to_you_ for help, didn't I?"

"Love you too, bro."

"Shut up."

Harry laughed and shook his head in amused resignation. "You know, it's actually kind of nice to hear the two of yourowing again. I kind of missed that. It's been so quiet around here since you left, Piper."

She pointed at him with the tip of her carrot. "Won't be anymore."

"Oh, please, spare me," Draco sighed, and massaged his right temple.

Harry tenderly carressed his cheek. "How did you get away from Tom?"

"I didn't - he's coming over here later."

"So, you made up, then?"

Draco smiled. "Yeah, I guess you could say that."

"Did you get your answer?"

A deep silence followed. The blonde looked stricken for a while. "Answer?"

Harry drew him into his arms and made him sit on his lap. "I sort of tuned into your ambiguity. I know you've been fighting some really nasty demons since you learnt of the pregnancy, wondering why you couldn't love Tom. I've seen it in your eyes, and I've been trying to help you."

Draco had tears in his eyes. "You... you noticed?"

"Of course I did, Dracums. I feel whatever you feel, I see whatever you see, and I hear all your thoughts as if they were my own. I probably know you better than I know myself. So, tell me: Did you get your answer?"

"I... Yes. I believe I just did."

"Then you should listen to it, Dracums. Do whatever you feel is right. Oh, almost forgot. Here's your potion." Harry gave him the small bottle.

Draco regarded it with obvious dread. He put a hand on his belly. But then he nodded and pocketed the potion. He knew what he had to do - later.

Piper kept making annoying chewing noises over in her corner.

Harry wondered what they were waiting for. The restlessness returning to him, he got up from the armchair and started to pace the floor once more. Draco watched him with eerily glowing eyes. As Harry made a turn to walk back to the armchair Tom appeared in front of him. Harry gave a surprised shriek. Tom raised an eyebrow. "Don't swallow your tongue, father."

Draco sat up straight and immediately fell into the role of the worried parent without even noticing it himself. "You! Where have you been? You should've been on my tail long ago!"

Tom dismissively waved a hand at him. "Don't worry about me, Daddy, I'm fine. Just needed to swallow my pride and gather enough courage to come back here."

Harry snorted. "Courage? You need courage to come here now? As I understand it this was your home for the better part of your life."

"You don't need toget snotty with me, father, I got enough of that when I was growing up. _Yes_, I needed courage - courage to confront _you_ and to embrace my destiny."

Harry knitted his eyebrows. "Confront me? About what?"

To his surprise, Tom was shaking. "Why, father? Why didn't you see me if you loved me as much as Daddy says? Why didn't you ever make an effort to show me that?"

Harry was completely taken aback. "What are you talking about? Of course I love you, Tom, I love you more than I even understand myself because I haven't got to know you yet, and certainly I must've_ seen_ you."

"No, you _never_ saw me!"

"I see you now."

"You never saw _me_! _ME_! You only saw your father, and I could never live up to your expectations. You wanted me to be just like the father you lost and never knew, and in doing so you took _my_ father away from _me_. The only thing I had was the knowledge and the privilege of being a Malfoy - _you_ drove me to this! Now take the consequences!"

All of a sudden Tom had withdrawn his wand from his jeans pocket and directed the agonising Cruciatus Curse at Harry.

Harry fell to the floor and thrashed in pain, screaming at the top of his lungs. Through the hazy barrier of tears he could see Piper sitting on the edge of her seat, her carrot half-way to her mouth, staring wide-eyed at the scene, and he noticed that Draco had risen to his feet. Although the pain was excruciating Harry forced himself to take control of his body and call out to his lover. "The potion! Draco, take the potion! _NOW_!"

Draco was staring at them with eyes wide-open with fear and indecision. He looked at Harry thrashing on the floor, tears silently streaming down his pallid face, and his lower lip started to tremble. Then he looked at Tom, whose face was so contorted with wrath that he looked like the Devil himself, and his grey eyes darkened with agony. Then all of a sudden he let out a scream of pain and bent forward, holding his hands to his stomach. His face was a grimace of pain not quite unlike Harry's, and he fell down on his knees, a breath caught in his lungs. "What's happening?" he whispered. "My stomach... the baby... _the baby_..."

Harry was on the verge of losing consciousness, and all he could think about was Draco's pain, the same pain that he had had the day they went to see Dumbledore at the Order's headquarters. "_Potion... potion_..." An oily blackness soiled the edges of his vision, but he fought it stubbornly; he could _not_ lose consciousness now! He would die if he lost consciousness now. But the pain... oh, God, _the pain_...

Draco managed to take the bottle out of his pocket, but his hand was shaking so much he almost could not bring it up to his mouth. Still in pain, he screwed the cork off and put the bottle to his lips, but just when he was about to drink it he stopped dead and met Harry's gaze. "I can't do it," he whimpered. "Forgive me, Harry, but I can't do it." The bottle fell out of his hand and smashed on the floor, a million smithereens littering the wood. Harry felt his hope sinking; he was going to die. There was no saving him this time, not with Draco paralysed by fear and ambiguous love and a Piper who was loath to interfere with destiny.

But then something most peculiar happened. Draco's face cracked open in a strange and very scary smile; he looked almost deranged. Taking his other hand out of his pocket, Draco determinedly raised his wand. "But I can't let you kill my Harry, either. I-I'm sorry, Tom. I _do_ love you, but I can't... I can't let you kill him. A... Avada Kedavra!"

For a second everything seemed to be frozen in an eternal magical photography, but ultimately Harry became aware of the green light dissolving and Draco's wand falling to the floor with a hollow sound followed by the blonde himself.

* * *

Neither of them was prepared for the whistle, but when it sounded Harry was quick to summon Piper for assistance. The nine months that had passed since Draco killed Tom had been hectic and straining on them both, mostly because of Draco's inevitable and unpredictable mood swings and pregnant sensibility. The first six weeks Draco had been extremely depressed and blamed himself for everything that had happened. At first he did not speak at all, and when he finally spoke all he could say was, _"I killed my son."_ But eventually he snapped out of it and returned to his usual self - with a few 'improvements' because of the pregnancy, of course. But despite all that, everything worked out fine in the end, and Harry loved him a little more for every stupid thing he did.

A few months into the pregnancy, Draco had begun to speak of Tom again, something which he had been extremely reluctant to do before that. He had obviously given it a whole lot of thought, because he had many answers that Harry had totally missed in the big picture. For one, he came into the parlour where Harry was currently reading the Prophet to get the news on "Lord Pywercaseley" and his activities, walking with some effort because of all the extra wait above his waist. "Harry, do you remember when I got that pain in my stomach?"

Harry looked up from the paper. "You mean when To- I mean, when we were going to talk to Dumbledore?"

Draco sat down on his lap. "It's okay, you can say his name. I figured it out. I think I hurt whenever he did something evil. It was as if all that evil energy was transmitted to the baby, as well, but the baby was too young to handle it - therefore we were in pain."

Harry blinked. "You know, that actually makes sense, Dracums."

"I know - I'm brilliant. I don't know what Tom was up to when we were in London, but that morning when he tried to kill you and that mysterious lad saved you... I was standing in the shower when suddenly my stomach started to hurt like Hell, and I got scared so I went to look for you as soon as it passed to get some support. But I've never experienced the kind of pain that I had when he used the Cruciatus Curse on you... it was awful. _Beyond_ awful. I never want to feel that pain again."

Harry kissed the back of the blonde's head. "You won't, baby."

And now it was time.

With a little improvision, Piper delivered the baby boy from the synthetic womb she had created inside Draco by help of a series of complicated spells and yet another potion. When the boy gave his first scream in this world Harry's heart skipped a beat or two and swelled with unconditional love, and he could not take his eyes off the perfect, beautiful little creature as Piper placed him in Draco's arms.

The smile on Draco's face was worth all the gold in the world. "Hello," Draco said, and happiness shone in his silver eyes. But then his smile faded and worried wrinkles searched their way onto his young forehead. "I don't want to name him Tom," he said darkly.

Piper settled down on his right side; Harry was sitting real close on his left side. "You don't have to," she said soberly. "Changing his name is the first step towards changing the future."

"Changing the future?" Harry echoed. "But I thought it was impossible to change what has already been done? Hermione always said..."

"Oh, Hermione this and Hermione that! What did Hermione really know about time travelling and the time continuum? She had - what? - approximately a year of experience? Everything is changeable - that's why time travelling is so dangerous! You have _twenty-one years_ to figure out what you did wrong and what to do differently, so don't worry."

"I guess you're right," Draco sighed. He looked at the sleeping boy in his arms. "I don't want him to be a Malfoy, either."

Piper snorted. "Who would?"

Draco gave her a condemning look.

They were all silent for a long while, all of them silently contemplating what was to come and what was to be expected. Harry wondered if they had taken on too big a job straightening out the lost boy that they had met just nine months ago. Then he thought of the blond boy and the hint of long black hair he had seen right before the boy vanished, and a smile came to his face. No, this was just as it should be. A family.

They were a family.

"So, what should we call him, then?" Draco asked.

Something hit Harry. It seemed so perfect.

"How about James?"

* * *

**A/N:** After this there will be a long series called _And so the tables were turned..._ which will start off approximately a year after this, I believe. And I would just like to thank you all for being so patient with me, I know I'm really slow when it comes to updating and so on... Thanks for reading this. /paipu 


	27. And so the tables were turned, part 1

**Disclaimer:** All the characters belong to J.K. Rowling, except for my creations Piper, James, the Forgettes, and the mystery teens. (And the Tom that is mentioned is mine, too, of course…)  
**Disclaimer II:** The cute 'ickle nickname "Dracums" belongs tomy friendGolden, but she gave me her permission to borrow it.

**A/N:** Thank you so much for reading & reviewing this story, mates! Every single comment makes me weeeaaally happy. ;P I hope you will all enjoy this new "series", or whatever to call it... o.O I am going to do my best to update frequently and fast, but you probably know me better by now... yeah, I do have trouble remembering to update. But I will work hard to get better at it! Itsumo ganbarimasu yo!  
Keep reading & reviewing, mates..!

* * *

**And so the tables were turned... part one**

The family father role was really growing on them both, and life could not have been better. They were enjoying each day of parenthood and never regretted for a moment that they had decided to have the baby, even after all that happened… But it all worked out fine, actually; Piper had kept pretty much out of the way, Tom was dead and buried, and they had the huge Malfoy Manor all to themselves; nothing more odd happened.

Now, James was thirteen months and walking around the house like a little drunken goblin – although he did not look like a goblin, thank God! It was really hard to believe that that little innocent toddler who always smiled and had such a wonderful melodious laughter could have turned into such a vicious and deranged creature as Tom. Or, well,_would_ turn into such a vicious and deranged creature, rather. Technically, none of that had happened yet. And perhaps it never would – perhaps they had already changed enough of their own and their son's future by giving him a completely different name than what had obviously been intended from the beginning.

Hopefully they would never have to face Tom again.

Watching his son play on the floor of the parlour, Harry could not help but think back on the problematic pregnancy with a knowing smile on his lips. He particularly remembered one morning during Draco's fourth month…

Harry had currently been in the bathroom, busy shaving, when he heard the terrified shriek from down the hall. Worried that something was utterly wrong he hurried back to their bedroom with the electric razor in one hand and his wand in the other, his face white with shaving cream, like an old man's beard. "What's wrong? What happened?" he asked Draco, who was standing beside the bed with a look of despair in his grey eyes, hysterically waving his arms about.

"Look at me! _Look_ at me!" he wailed, tears in his eyes.

He was wearinga set of pyjamas much too big for him in order to cover up the fact that he was swiftly getting fatter by the day, and now the pyjama bottoms were sliding off his hip.

Harry did not understand what was wrong. "I'm looking, I'm looking, but what am I looking at?" he asked confusedly.

Draco moaned as if to reproach him on just how stupid he was for not noticing. He quickly walked over to Harry and grabbed his right hand, in which he held his wand. Draco twisted the wand out of Harry's hand and threw it on the bed, then he put Harry's hand on his chest. "Here! Do you feel that?"

Harry was actually a little afraid of the wild look in his lover's eyes. But he felt it alright. And was _amazed_. "You're… big. And soft…"

Draco pulled away, grimacing. "Ouch! That hurts! Be a little more careful, will ya?"

"Sorry. But, Draco, you are… how can you… I mean, it's almost as if you… like, you know, a girl." He tried to formulate a coherent sentence, but it all just came out as random, _in_coherent rambling.

Draco sighed irritably. "Oh, go on and say it! I have boobs!"

"Yeah… well, you do…"

"I know – and they are bloody killing me!"

"Come on, it can't be that bad," Harry tried to reassure, but only succeeded to infuriate Draco more.

"Not that bad? _NOT THAT BAD!_ Do you have any idea how it feels to have two huge bombs on your chest all swelled up with who-knows-what that feels as if they're about to burst any second?"

"Er… no?"

"No, that's fucking right! So just shut up and pity me."

Harry protectively put his arms around Draco. Lovingly patting his belly, he said, "I pity you, baby."

"Shut up, you make me sound so pathetic."

"Yeah, well, you _are_, Draco."

"Fuck you. Call my sister, I would like to have a word with her about this. She's about the only woman I know, and regardless of how much I hate her I guess I need her expertise on this area right now."

When the pregnancy really kicked in, Draco turned into a whiny, over-sensitive, impulsive, and very girlish nancy boy with mood swings, who ate huge quantities of food and sweets and puked his guts out respectively, and after puking he would simply go on eating some more. Harry soon learnt to read his lover's unpredictability and to be patient with his many whims, even though he got pretty tired with him from time to time. He never got angry with Draco; in fact, he loved all the stupid little things that Draco did and supported him one hundred and ten per cent.

Several times he was asked to contact Piper for different reasons – mostly woman reasons, which was rather ironic and highly amusing – only to receive a ranting from Draco because he had invited her over without consulting him first. That time, however, Draco remembered perfectly well why he had asked for his sister. As soon as she arrived he attacked her with angry, accusatory inquiries. "What the Hell have you done to me, Piper? Do you enjoy to see me suffer? Is it your opinion that I have done something so awful as to deserve this? Huh? Answer me, you bloody wench!"

Piper was not at all offended by his fury and his accusations, or even by the name-calling, but simply yawned with boredom. "I'm afraid I'm not quite following you, Draco," she said impatiently. "Would you care to elaborate?"

Draco roared like an animal. Then he pointed at his chest. "I have breasts!" he yelled at her. "Why the Hell do I have breasts?"

Piper stared at him in puzzlement. "You mean you actually sprouted _breasts_?"

"Yes! Is that some sort of life-threatening side effect to the potion?"

"Oh, no, no, that's no side effect, and it _certainly_ isn't dangerous."

"But they really hurt!" Draco whined unhappily.

Piper tried to look down his décolletage to catch a glimpse of the unexpected 'beauties.' "Do you have real nipples, too?"

Draco violently fought her off. "I had the nipples before – all people have nipples, you moron! It's the _breasts_ I'm worried about! Men aren't supposed to have _breasts_!"

As if struck by a sudden insight, Piper nodded and said, "Oh, yeah, congratulations on your 18th birthday, Drakie-bums."

Draco looked as if he was going to explode. "Excuse me! It's not my birthday, that's not until December…"

"Oh, you're right… so maybe it's_my_ birthday in November, then?"

"Your birthday's in February, you moron!"

"Yes, of course it is. When did you think it was?"

"Oh, flip… you're even more stupid now than when I last saw you. Now could we _please_ return to the reason why I had you sent for!"

"Certainly. Well, it's quite simple, really. Your body is preparing itself for the baby, and naturally you are producing a healthy quantity of mother's milk –you know, to feed the baby with –and I guess since you're a man the potion kind of helped you grow what you lacked, so to speak. In order to take care of the baby, I mean."

"Oh. Then why do they hurt if it's not dangerous?"

"Hello! Because they're so crammed full of milk right now and they're not used to it! The skin ought to be really stretched out down there." She once again tried to catch a glimpse of her brother's boobs, again failing because of Draco's extensive protectiveness. "I'm afraid you'll have to live with that for some time, maybe even as long as ten to twelve months after the baby's born."

"_**Ten to twelve months**_?"

"Yeah, and that's only in addition to the five months or so you have left of your pregnancy."

"Five _**more**_ months?"

"Uh-huh. Well, if there wasn't anything else I had better take my leave, then. _Ciao!_"

Reminiscing about that moment made Harry laugh and shake his head in amusement and resignation. It had been an ordeal to have a pregnant Draco around, indeed, but it had been a pleasure as well. Seeing his lover with that huge belly, knowing that there were another little person growing inside of him, Harry had only come to love him more. And now they had a son. It was all too amazing to grasp.  
He watched James as he played with his rubber wand, wearing his cute little black cloak…

James made a semi-grimace and hiccoughed loudly – and the next moment he had disappeared.

Harry instantly straightened up in his armchair. "James?" he said, wanting so bad to believe that his son had somehow found his Invisibility Cloak and put it on without him noticing than to admit that he had actually vanished right under his nose. Hysteria rising inside of him, he called out once more, louder this time. "James?"

Draco appeared in the doorway. He was wearing a red-and-white chequered apron and holding a wooden spatula in his right hand. He had developed quite a liking for cooking during his pregnancy, but in a true Malfoy spirit he never used his hands when he could use magic. He just liked holding the kitchen utencils. "What's wrong?"

Harry got up from the armchair and hurried up to the spot where James had been sitting. "He just disappeared! Where did he go?"

Draco knitted his eyebrows in confusion. "What do you mean 'he just disappeared'?"

"He was here just a few seconds ago, playing, but then he disappeared! I don't know where he is!"

_Clink_. The spatula had fallen to the floor. A faint whisper came from the doorway. "_What_?"

Harry went over to him and put his arms around him. "I'm sorry, Dracums, I was supposed to watch him. I'll go find him."

"How?"

"I don't know, but I'll find him – somehow."

He went to all the places they usually took James to play, or to buy sweets, or to have fun in other ways that a small child might appreciate. Since they did not really spend time with other people outside their little family, there were no friends to go look for the boy at. Harry and Ron had lost all contact after Tom murdered Hermione, which was quite understandable. Harry thought it was sad, but he did not know hot to break the ice between them so he pretty much pushed it out of his mind. Now, when he returned home empty-handed, Draco began to cry. "He's gone! He's gone forever and we won't ever find him!"

Harry tried his best to reassure him, but his own anxiety made that task almost impossible. He was only a toddler, for crying out loud! How was he supposed to take care of himself out in the unknown, wide world? Another thought hit him. What if he were found by Muggles? What if he accidentally used magic in front of them and exposed theentire world of magic? They would have the entire Ministry breathing down their necks in no time!

"How are we ever going to find him?" Draco sobbed into Harry's shirt.

"I don't know. I honestly don't know. Let's just hope that he returns home of his own accord, or that someone spots him and turns him in to the police or something."

"_Police?_ You think he's with _Muggles_?"

"You never know. Who's to say _where_ he wound up?"

Despite his fruitless efforts that afternoon, Harry kept searching for their son almost non stop for the following three days without any results whatsoever. Ultimately they were both ready to give up and leave it to the authorities to find James. That's when the owl came.

Harry recognised it almost instantly. "Hey, Pigwidgeon! How are you, mate? Got a letter for me or something?" Ron's faithful, but over-enthusiastic, owl reached out its left leg, where a piece of parchment had been attached. Harry unfolded it and read it. Feeling optimistic and exhilarated for the first time in almost four days, Harry called for Draco.

"What?" the blonde said gloomily.

"Here! Read!"

_Dear Harry,  
I know it's been some time since you heard  
anything from us, and quite some time indeed  
since you made contact with us. I tried to make  
Ron write to you, but he said he didn't think it  
would be right, so I took the task upon me to  
inform you of the matter. You see, just this  
morning a strange little baby boy appeared in  
our kitchen, and when Molly took a closer look  
atthe chap she noticed the name "Potter" on  
the nametag on his cloak. He doesn't belong  
to you by any chance, does he? Cute little fella.  
Anyway, Molly and I wish you and Draco would  
come for dinner so thatwe can catch up on old times.  
Best of wishes, Arthur Weasley_

After many cheers and hugs and triumphant dances around the parlour, they went straight to the Burrow to pick up their son. "Mrs. Weasley? Mr. Weasley?" Harry called when they arrived, looking about the cosy kitchen.

The entire Weasley family came down from the upper floors of the house, Molly in the lead, wearing a broad smile. She held out her arms to him. "Harry, dear! Oh, look at you! You're so tall! And your friend! What was your name again, dear?"

"Draco," Draco said numbly as Mrs. Weasley hugged him.

Harry laughed. "_Boy_friend, Mrs. Weasley," he corrected her affectionately. "He's my _boy_friend."

"Oh, of course he is, dear!"

"Where's James?" Draco inquired worriedly, looking up behind them.

"James? Oh, you mean the boy! He's with Ginny, dear. _GINNY!_ _Take that boy with you and come downstair!_"

Harry shook hands with Mr. Weasley and said an awkward "Hi" to Ron, who was standing in the background looking rather lost. As soon as Ginny came downstairs with James, Draco kneeled on the floor and protectively put his arms around the boy. "James! We've been so worried! Don't_ever_ do that again – whatever it was you did…"

"Hicky-puff," James said, smiling broadly, putting his right index finger in his mouth.

"Yeah, that's right," Harry said as he remembered. "He was hiccoughing just before he vanished. D'you think that had anything to do with it?"

"Hiccoughing, eh?" Mr. Weasley said. "Never heard of it."

"Is he yours?" Ginny asked Harry and smiled down at the little toddler.

Harry smiled, too. "Yeah, he's ours. His name is James Sirius."

Mrs. Weasley patted him on the cheek. "It's a lovely name, dear. Bet both your father and Sirius would've been proud of you and your boy."

"Did you adopt him?" Ginny went on as if Mrs. Weasley had not said anything at all.

"Adopt!" Draco exclaimed as if he had been insulted. "No, he's ours all right! He's _both_ our flesh and blood!"

Ginny frowned. "But how is that possible? You're both boys…"

"It's a long story," Harry said, "and I will tell you all about it later. But first I think I better calm Draco."

They all understood perfectly well what Harry meant by 'calm Draco', because the blonde was currently shaking the little boy, a hysterical expression on his face. "Why did you vanish like that? Are you out of your bloody mind? You're only one year old, for Christ's sake! Don't ever vanish like that again, do you hear me!"

Harry put a hand on Draco's shoulder. "Draco, put the boy down. He can't answer you anyway 'cause he can't speak."

"I don't care, bloody Hell! He scared me!"

"He scared me, too, baby."

"Don't 'baby' me – and why do you always have to be so calm, too?"

Harry smiled mockingly. "Someone has to be the strong one. What would it look like if we were both mental cases, huh?"

"Don't mock me."

"Stop whining, then."

Draco pouted, but he at least shut up and put James down. The boy merely looked entertained by his hysterical father and tottered off to play with the Weasleys' fat cat. Harry watched him with an affectionate smile. The son that had paid them an unexpected visit from the future almost two years previously seemed to have been successfully wiped away from their memories, and neither of them worried or even thought about him anymore; they were both blind with the bliss of parenthood.

Mrs. Weasley insisted on the two young men and the boy staying for dinner, and they happily accepted, even though Draco was anxious to go back home now that they had found James. Harry thought it best to express their gratitude to the Weasleys and grant Molly that one wish. They actually had a great time, and they both discovered that it was not so hard to rebuild their friendship with the Weasleys.

After merely twenty minutes they were once again talking and laughing as if they had all known each other for three entire lifetimes, and it was difficult to believe that they had ever lost contact with one another.

After dinner, Ron surprised Harry by asking him for a private conversation in his bedroom upstairs. Harry noticed that nothing had changed about the room since he had set foot in it. It was odd to think that they could have lost contact altogether like that… They had always been best friends – almost like brothers, even. But Hermione's death had clipped their bonds. Now they needed to figure out how to reinstate them again.

Ron measured him with his eyes. "So, you have a child now?" he stated somewhat nervously.

"Yeah," Harry replied awkwardly.

"And Malfoy… carried him?"

"He was pregnant with him, yes."

"Quite amazing stuff."

"Yeah. We hardly believed Piper ourselves when she told us about the Priberty Potion. But it was quite obvious that she was telling the truth, what with Tom confirming it and everything…"

Ron stiffened. "Tom? You mean the bloke who killed Hermione?"

Harry felt something stab his heart when he saw the raw pain on Ron's face. He was not over her yet. Mentioning Tom had been a bad thing to do. Uncertain what to say, he squirmed in his seat. "Well, yeah… he was… I mean, he said that he was… Blimey, how can I tell you this?"

Ron's eyes had turned raven black and were shooting flashes of angry lightning. "You knew him? You were friends with him?" he demanded with hostility.

"I…" Harry was interrupted by a knock on the door. Draco appeared in the doorway. "Sorry to barge in on your private make-up-talk, but Tom is asking for you."

Harry frowned. "Tom?"

"What? Oh, sorry. I meant James, of course. I keep forgetting that we changed his name after he died…_James_ is asking for you, and I figured that since he was so angry about not getting enough attention from you in the future you might want to go to him, that's all." He fell silent when he saw Ron's face turn the same tone of ginger as his hair. "What's up with you? You look as if you've just received the insult of your life or something."

Harry made an urgent gesture at him. "Draco – _don't_!"

But it was already too late. Ron rose from his bed, and with an angry glance at Harry, he said, "What is this? What the Hell are you talking about? First you start talking about that Tom bloke who killed my Hermione, and then your bloody boyfriend barges in rambling about Tom wanting to speak with you and something about you guys changing James's name _after he **died** _– what is all that about? I demand an explanation!"

Harry and Draco exchanged a meaning look. Then Harry turned to his best friend. "I guess I have to tell you the whole story, then. About – what can it be now? – two years ago a stranger came to our house claiming to be from the future, and he needed our help. Draco and I agreed to help him, but we never quite trusted him. All he told us was that his name was Tom and that he had to stop one particular event from occurring. For that he needed planning, and that's what he did at our house. We didn't like having him there, but we were having problems of our own at the moment. Draco was feeling really sick, and we figured it must be because of all the stress Tom was causing him, but then we found out that he was feeling ill because he was pregnant. It was the same day that you guys showed up, the day that he showed us his true colours and murdered Hermione… Piper came to the Manor to do a check-up on Draco, and it turned out that the child he was carrying was Tom."

Ron jerked. "_What?_ Do you mean to tell me that that boy… that _James_… that _he_ is Tom?"

"Yes. There is no easy way to tell you this, but… yes, he_is_ Tom. Obviously Draco and I did something terribly wrong in raising him, or rather: I did something wrong. He accused me of not loving him enough, not seeing him, so he turned to the Dark Lord in hope of finding what I had been unable to give him. He tried to kill me twice. Draco was supposed to take a potion that was going to induce a miscarriage, but he couldn't do it, so when Tom tried to kill me for the second time, Draco killed _him_."

Ron stared at him in confusion. "Draco killed Tom?"

"Yes."

"But he kept the baby?"

"Yes."

"In spite of everything that Tom had done?"

"Yes, but you need to understand something, Ron. You see, the baby hasn't done all those things yet, and there is still a good chance that Draco and I will be able to prevent it this time. We have twenty years to figure out what we did wrong. You can't blame James for what Tom did, because technically all those things haven't happened yet."

Ron sank down on the edge of his bed. "This is giving me a headache," he complained whiningly.

"Er, Harry, I don't want to pressure you or anything, but would you please go to Jimmy now?" Draco pleaded. "I don't want to screw up already."

Harry took a seat beside Ron. "Why don't you bring him up here instead?"

"Okay." Draco went to get the boy.

"Why are you bringing him up here?" Ron asked furiously.

"Because you need to see that he is as innocent as any other child. He's just a small boy, and he had never harmed anyone. I love him, and Draco loves him – he's part of our family. If we're going to be friends again you have to accept that, and you have to accept James."

It proved to be easy for Ron to accept the jolly little boy, with his clumsiness and amusing attempts at speech, and they were soon playing with Ron's old Quidditch merchandise as if they had never done anything else. It warmed Harry to see them together: his best friend and his firstborn son. At that moment, he knew that everything would be all right.

* * *

Later, when they returned home from a successful reunion with the Weasleys, someone was in the house. They used the fireplace in the den, which was dark and deserted just like they had left it, but there were eerie noises coming out of the kitchen. One look exchanged, Draco raised his wand and took the lead, Harry following close behind with James tight in his arms. Slowly, quietly, they moved through the archway to the parlour and out into the short hallway. Draco stopped just beside the kitchen doorway and listened. A low thud echoed through the quiet house. With determination, Draco stepped around the corner and shouted, "Freeze, you burgling bastard!", but stopped short with his mouth hanging open just inside the door.

Harry followed. "Who is it?" As soon as he had stepped into the kitchen he realised that he should not have had to ask that question. Of course it was Piper, who else? She had frozen with a piece of yellow pepper dangling from the corner of her mouth, busy searching through their refrigerator.

When the shock lifted, she smiled broadly. "Hey guys! What have you been up to today? I've been waiting here for three hours."

Draco's face was swiftly turning crimson. "And what exactly are you doing in_my_ home, eating_my_ food?"

"See, that's why I came here. It seems like I've been evicted from my London apartment, and I haven't any place to go, so I wanted to ask you guys if I may stay here for a couple of months while I'm searching for a new apartment?"

Harry took a step back from Draco, protectively shielding the boy from the outburst-to-come.

"_**Whaaaat?**_ _Stay_ here? Are you out of your bloody mind? You are_not_ stayingat my house, not _ever_!" Draco yelled furiously.

"But Draco, I haven't any place to go…"

"I'm glad! It's time you learnt your lesson for being so insufferable all the time!"

Harry carefully put a hand on Draco's shoulder. "Dracums, we have a hundred and five rooms here, and we hardly even use thirty of them. Can't you give her at least one or two?" he said soberly. "She can even have her own kitchen if she'd like, and we wouldn't ever have to see her. She IS your sister, Draco, we can't just leave her out in the cold."

Draco looked as if he wanted to present all 3000 arguments that he had stored up, but finally he sighed and gave up. "Oh, all right. But if you're going to live here you have to promise me a few things."

Piper lit up. "Sure! Anything!"

Draco stuck out his chin. "You have to live by my rules, and you don't have any say in this house about anything. You can stay for as long as you need to find a new apartment, but the moment you do you're out of here, understood? I have the right to kick you out whenever I feel that you have broken the rules, and you won't be able to come back. There will be _no_ explosions, _no_ careless wand-waving, _no_ making up new spells, and absolutely _no_ bloody potions whatsoever! Understood?"

Piper nodded. "Yes, absolutely, understood. I promise there will be no trouble at all, no trouble at all. Thank you, brother." She gave him a brief hug before strutting off with her vegetables.

Draco sighed again and sank down on one of the kitchen chairs. "Blimey, what have I done now? How could I ever consent to her staying here? She'll mess up our lives again."

Harry put the squirming James down and walked over to Draco. Kissed the crown of his head. "I'm very flattered that you actually said 'our lives' when you wanted to say 'my life,' Dracums," he mumbled lovingly.

Draco chuckled. "Yeah, I _do_ sound awfully self-centred, don't I?"

"Yeah, you do. But I love you just the way you are."

"Good for me, I guess. Wouldn't have anyone in the world if I didn't have you to love me. Except for that bloody brainless wench, of course, but that wouldn't count for anything either."

Harry laughed and cooed Draco into standing up. "Come. Let's go upstairs and calm down a bit. I think we need it."

Draco nodded and followed him to the stairs. Through the parlour archway they could see Piper semi-lying on one of the couches, chewing loudly on a carrot, and James playfully hitting her legs with a yellow rubber club. She did not mind him, and he seemed to be awfully amused by the squeaky sounds that the rubber club made when it hit her knees and ankles. "Look after him a while, will ya?" Harry asked as he began to push Draco upstairs. He thought he heard her mumble an indifferent "yeah, sure" between bites, but he did not stay to see if she would start objecting.

Draco went directly into their bedroom, but that was not where Harry had liked to go – not yet. There, Draco stopped. "Oh, my Coke," he said, and bent down to pick up the plastic bottle from under the bed.

Harry wrinkled his nose. "You're not gonna drink that, are you?"

Draco gave him a blank look. "Why not?" He unscrewed the cork. "I like Coke. One of few good things that's actually come out of Muggle minds." He took a deep swig, and Harry let hear a disgusted moan. Draco frowned. "Wha'?"

"That's been under there for a month!"

"Two, actually."

"Ugh, even worse! Do you know what that does with you? Old Coke?"

Draco cast a glanceat the bottle. "Says here it expires in May next year," he protested.

"If you _haven't opened it_, yeah! Ugh, Draco, that's just disgusting! You won't get any kiss from me until you've thoroughly brushed your teeth!"

"Good. Then I can take out the other bottle that I hid in the wardrobe six months ago."

"_Uuuuugghhh_!"

"And, look here! I think I put this can behind the trash basket like_ two years_ ago. Wonder what that tastes like?"

"_UUUUUUUGGGGGHHHH_!"

Draco tried it, smacked his lips together, and nodded in consent. "Not bad. Wanna try it, Harry?"

"_**UUUUUUUUUUUGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHH**_! _Now I have to go puke_!"

Harry swiftly left Draco to his Coke-drinking and retreated to the library down the hall, opposite the huge master bath. In desperate need of occupying his mind with something else than the gross images that Draco was currently presenting, Harry took down a book from one of the many shelves in the 5000-square-feet room and began to skim through it.

At first he did not register the words and the pictures in the volume, but eventually he grew aware that the book he was looking in was about some really advanced dark magic, and his first thought was to close it and put it back as soon as possible, but then he saw something utterly interesting. It was a Summoning Spell, but not any ordinary kind.

_How to summon the dead_.

Harry stared at the page as if paralysed by fear. As he read the instructions as to how to use the spell he realised that it would not be too hard to perform it. And regardless of the risks, he discovered that he was strangely compelled to rip the page out of the book and put it in his pocket so he could use it later – why, he did not know.

"Harry?"

He quickly slammed the book shut and crammed it back in with the others on the shelf.

"Harry? Did you go downstairs?"

Draco's footsteps faded away as he descended the stairs to the second floor. Harry released his breath and exited the library. With one last glance at the spine of the dark book, he shut the door and walked down to their bedroom. Resolutely he picked up the two half-empty bottles and the can of Coke that Draco had left on his desk and went to the bathroom. He poured them out in the sink. Then he returned to their bedroom and started to sort through his wardrobe. He wanted to change into something less formal, more comfortable.

"Oh, there you are," Draco said from the doorway. "Where'd you go? I was looking for you."

"Did you brush your teeth?" Harry teased.

Draco laughed. "Actually, I did." He went over to Harry and put his arms around his waist; rested his head on Harry's shoulder. "I was thinking of taking a bath, you want to join me?"

"Can't, I have a million things to do."

"Bloody Auror-boy."

"I'm not an Auror," Harry protested affectionately.

"But you're _going_ to be," Draco pointed out.

Harry made a wry face that his lover could not see. "I don't know about that, actually. It doesn't feel… right. Feels as if I should do something else."

Draco gently kissed his shoulder. "What? You don't like your training? You don't like you classmates?"

Harry sighed. "It's not that. It's just that… I feel confined. I want to do something, not just study all the time. Do you know how much paper work Aurors have to push? I don't want to be stuck behind some bloody desk in wait of a dark wizard to pursue."

"Then what do you want?"

"I don't know… but lately I've been thinking about Quidditch."

"Professional Quidditch?"

"Yeah. I miss flying."

"Your Firebolt's in the broom closet on the first floor, and the talent's in you, Harry. I know you can do it if you really want to. And I'm not just speaking of your incredible flying during all your Quidditch matches at Hogwarts – I'm thinking about the time you tricked that dragon during the Triwizard Tournament. That was some bloody brilliant flying, Harry. The best Wronski Feint I have ever seen. If you want to play Quidditch every bloody team in England will be fighting over you."

"Thanks, Dracums." Harry took out a black sweat suit and turned around to face his lover. He knitted his brows when he saw the fresh beads of sweat on Draco's forehead, the flushed cheeks, and the watery eyes. "Draco, are you all right?"

Draco looked bewildered. "What d'you mean?"

"You don't look very good. Are you feeling sick?"

"Well, now that you mention it… I feel rather strange…"

Harry put his hand on Draco's forehead. "You might want to reconsider that bath, Dracums – you have a fever. And a quite high fever, too."

Draco instantly fought him off. "Oh, no, no, I am going to have that bath! Want it more now than ever, might take my fever away…"

Harry stopped him when he tried to walk away. "Are you _crazy_? You can't take a bath _now_! You'll faint and _drown_, for crying out loud!"

"Like I care. Nothing you say will make me change my mind, so just let me go, all right?" He pushed past Harry, wobbled a bit, but just kept on walking when he regained his balance.

Harry sighed. "As you wish. But don't come back to haunt me after you've drowned, all right? I have enough on my mind as it is. I'll just go down to James, then. Call me if you need anything. _Any_thing."

"You got it. And make sure you keep a close watch on James. Don't let him vanish again."

"No chance. I'll be holding his hand all the time, so if he goes anywhere I'll be going with him."

"Great. Love you, Harry."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, jump into that bath and shut up."

"Bastard."

Harry was smiling when he went down to the parlour on the first floor to look after James. No matter how much they mocked each other or how much they quarrelled, it always came down to them declaring their love for each other. He was certain that no other couple in the world could have that same special relationship that he and Dracums had.

Piper looked up from the novel she was reading when he arrived. "Where's Draco?" she asked, surprised to see him alone.

Harry sat down in his favourite armchair and sighed happily. "He's come down with the flu so he's taking a bath," he informed the sister.

Piper raised an eyebrow. "A bath? When he's having the flu? Don't you find that awfully stupid?"

"Yeah, I do. I tried to talk him out of it, but you know how Draco is."

"Unfortunately. Man, that's something you might expect_me_ to do."

Harry gave her a look that said, _"What? Are you stupid or are you stupid?"_

James coughed twice and then hiccuped loudly.

Remembering what happened the last time the boy had the hiccoughs, Harry jumped down on the floor and clasped his son in his arms, and it proved to have been good to listen to his instincts because in the next minute they both left the cosy parlour and travelled through a sparkling nothingness with an immense speed. Next thing Harry knew, they were lying on the floor of somebody else's living room, and the person in front of him was not exactly whom he had expected…

* * *

(To be continued…) 


	28. And so the tables were turned, part 2

**  
**

Rating: PG-15, contains some OOC  
Pairing: H/D  
**Disclaimer:** All the characters belong to J.K. Rowling, except Piper, James, Tom, the Forgettes, and the mystery teens, whom I have created.

**Disclaimer II:** The juicy nickname "Dracums" belongs to Golden, I'm just "borrowing" it. ;P

Author's note: 105 degrees Fahrenheit is approximately 40,5 degrees in Centigrade, so that is quite a fever Draco has… 108 degrees Fahrenheit is 42,2 degrees Centigrade…  
This story is dedicated to Golden. ;)

* * *

**And so the tables were turned… (2)**

Draco did not faint and drown in the bath, but he bloody well felt as if he had. Just as Harry had predicted, a bath had been a bad idea. The hot water had only made his fever worse, and he had felt as if he was melting. All in all, he had only been in the tub for ten minutes, and that had been stretching it. He simply felt as if he needed to prove something to Harry, and stepping out of the bath too soon would mean defeat.

When he got downstairs he expected to find Harry with a triumphant smile on his lips, saying "Told you so." But to his great surprise Harry was not in the parlour like he had said he would be. Neither was James. Draco knitted his brows. "Piper, where's Harry? Where's James?"

Piper was sitting on the couch with her mouth open like a dead fish, staring unseeingly out into thin air. "They… they… they just disappeared," she whispered.

Draco felt something sharp pierce his heart. "D-disappeared?" he echoed, because he knew what that meant. James had done whatever he had done four days ago, but this time Harry had managed to go with him. Still, it was immensely alarming.

Where had they gone this time?

* * *

Harry got up from the floor to greet the woman in front of him. James began to crawl around on the wooden floor, a happy grin on his face. He made gurgling little baby noises that would have been cute had the situation not been so acute.

The woman took a trembling step towards him, then stopped in hesitation.

Harry tried to smile friendly, but he only managed a semi-grimace. "Good evening, Mrs. Granger," he said, nervously fingering on his shirt. "Sorry to barge in like this…"

The woman jerked when he called her by her name. Then recognition passed over the surfaces of her blue eyes. "Harry, is that you? Little Harry Potter?" she asked.

Harry nodded. "Yes, Mrs. Granger. It's nice to see you again. I'm… I'm awfully sorry for your loss, Mrs. Granger. We all miss Hermione an awful lot." That last thing was a complete lie, but Harry could not bring himself to tell Mrs. Granger the truth about the ambiguous feelings he had for her late daughter. He had not seen either of Hermione's parents for over five years, so he could not just tell her that he hated Hermione for what she had done to him and Draco. That would accomplish nothing but further estrangement from the Grangers.

Mrs. Granger bit her lower lip. "Thank you, Harry. I… I heard from Ron that Hermione was killed by someone at your house, but I… I didn't know what to think. I just couldn't believe anything like that of you. Not of you, not of Harry Potter."

Harry's heart skipped a beat. "I'm afraid that is true, Mrs. Granger," he decided to say. "I can't lie to you; you deserve to know what happened to your daughter. But I assure you that neither Draco nor I had anything to do with it. The person who killed her was staying at our house at that time, but he was killed himself the very next day. Draco and I thought we could trust him, but he turned out to be a dark wizard. Unfortunately Hermione showed up at the wrong place at the wrong time. I was the one that should have been killed. I was the one that he was after. I'm sorry I couldn't do more, Mrs. Granger."

Harry did not feel at all bad for twisting the truth to make it sound as if he had no blame in what had happened to Hermione, although it was for the best. He could not tell her that the person who killed Hermione was in fact the very same boy who was currently crawling around her living room floor; the spawn of Harry and Draco.

The woman wobbled for a second, as if she was on the verge of fainting, but she remained on her feet. Slowly nodding, she said, "I know you're telling me the truth, and I appreciate it, Harry," she said. "You don't have to blame yourself for her death, you know. It was simply meant to happen. It was inevitable."

Harry could not suppress his bafflement at her last words. He had had no idea that Hermione's mother believed in God. He simply could not believe that anyone who had a witch or a wizard in the family could still claim that there was a God.

Mrs. Granger looked down at James with a broad smile. "Who is this lovely little boy?"

Harry did not like the change of subjects, but thought it better to play along with it. "This is James Sirius Potter, my son," he introduced. "He's one."

Mrs. Granger met his gaze. "You have a son, Harry? Who's the lucky girl?"

Harry could not help but laughing. "I guess Hermione never told you, then," he stated. The last time he saw the Grangers he and Draco had still been archenemies, and they had not yet fallen in love. "There is no girl, and there never has been."

Mrs. Granger frowned. "What do you mean? Are you a single parent? Is it possible to adopt children when you're single in the magical community?"

Harry firmly shook his head. "No, you don't understand. It's not like that. There is no girl – there is a _boy_. Draco Malfoy."

Once again the woman looked as if she was about to faint. "Dr-Draco Malfoy? Lucius Malfoy's son?"

"Yes, but he isn't a dark wizard if that's what you thought," Harry hurried to say, "he's a good wizard, one of the best, and he's got a heart of gold. I love him so much it hurts sometimes. We've been together for almost five years now, and now we have a son. Maybe you heard of his deed two years ago? That he killed Lord Voldemort?"

Even Mrs. Granger, who was not a witch, seemed to fear that name, even now that the Dark Lord had been dead for almost two years.

"Ye-yes, I heard," she stuttered, "but I always thought that… well, you know… that Lucius Malfoy's son was destined to walk in his footsteps, to take over after him."

Harry sighed. "He was, but all that changed when he fell in love with me. He's good now, and he's been good ever since we got to know each other. There is no need to worry about him anymore. He's on our side."

Mrs. Granger nodded, but her eyes told him that she found that very hard to believe.

* * *

He returns to the dark house on her call, just like he always does, because loyalty and honesty is what he values most. Another successful mission behind him, he carefully rubs his temples. He is getting a headache. She is standing in front of him, her feline eyes glowing in the dark, watching him with silent expectation. He knows that look, knows it like he knows his own pocket. She has another mission for him. Determined to be at her service, in spite of his headache, he slowly bows his head.

"Where do you need me to go now?"

* * *

Piper helped Draco to lie down on one of the couches and fluffed two big pillows for him. With a deep sigh he put his head down and closed his by fever watered eyes. A worried wrinkle searched its way onto her forehead, resting with glowing gloat right between her eyebrows; he was so hot. She had never seen her brother that ill before, not even as a small child. When she checked his temperature she discovered that he had a hundred and five degrees. That could not be good. "How are you feeling?" she asked Draco affectionately. "Do you have a sore throat?"

"Yeah," Draco replied numbly, "and my head hurts like Hell. Feels as if it's about to burst."

"Must be because of the pressure inside your head," Piper concluded, and rose from the chair. "Want me to get you something? Some tea, maybe? It'll be good for your throat."

"Thanks."

"And I'll bring you some medicine. I know you guys have loads of different medications stored up in case James ever gets sick. Which one is for fever and flues?"

"Feverflutop, silly. It says on the box."

Piper got the medicine out of the cabinet and put it on the kitchen counter. Then she began to make tea for Draco. When it was ready she poured it into a deep jug and added some honey, because she had read somewhere that honey was great for sore throats. Thinking that Draco might be hungry as well she made him a couple of sandwiches just in case. If he did not want them she could eat them. Putting everything on a tray she went back into the parlour and started to serve her brother. For once he did not complain about her clumsiness, mock her for being oblivious and stupid, or yell at her for being in his way. It was actually rather nice to take care of him, and she silently wished that he would let her do that in the future as well.

When Draco had taken a few sips of his tea, he gave Piper a faint smile. "Thanks, that tasted wonderful." Fortunately for her, he could not get a bite down but left the sandwiches for her. He did take his medicine, though. Piper just hoped it would begin to work on time, before the fever got any higher. Then, when Draco had once more leant back and closed his eyes, somewhere between sleep and wake, he said, "I love you, Piper. You're the best sister ever."

Piper was so shocked that she could not speak for almost two whole minutes. Her throat was tight with emotion when she whispered, "Draco… do you really mean that? I… I've never heard you say that to anyone but Harry before…"

Draco's face was burning. "I say it to James all the time…"

"But never in front of other people, not even in front of me. Harry is the only one you can say 'I love you' to regardless of the number of people around. When it comes to other people, you kind of hide your feelings. Even the feelings you have for your son."

Without opening his eyes, Draco said, "What do you mean? I'm not trying to hide my feelings for Tom – I love him. He's my son, and I love him."

Piper's heart skipped a beat. "Draco… you said 'Tom'," she admonished.

"Yeah, so? That's his name, right? He chose it himself – wasn't that what he always told me?"

She was silent for a few seconds. "He told you that?"

"Um-hm. Said it was a cry for help."

She was silent again. "And did he tell you why he was crying for help?"

"No, and I can't figure it out, either. Harry would surely understand what Tom meant if I consulted him about it, but he's so determined on forgetting Tom… I don't want to bother him about it. He won't show until at least fifteen or twenty years, right?"

Piper gasped involuntarily. "What… what do you mean, Draco?"

Draco sighed and turned his head away from her. He was obviously going to fall to sleep any second now. "Tom won't surface until fifteen or twenty years, right?" he mumbled almost inaudibly, and Piper had to lean in really close to catch his words. "And when he does we'll be prepared for him…"

"But you said there was a chance of that never happening!" Piper objected violently.

To her surprise, Draco laughed bitterly. "It's irreversible, Piper. If we'd managed to correct our faults he never would've come to us, would he? He would never have attacked my Harry… and I wouldn't have killed him. You can't change what's already been… can't change…"

He had fallen asleep.

Piper watched him with growing dread. This was not how it was supposed to go. He was not supposed to know that. But Piper knew, because she had seen it all. Divination was not all bogus; it could be done, and she was something of an expert. But still there was a good chance that something could be done to prevent the inevitable; Harry could still make it up to Tom – to James – and ensure that the time travelling never took part.

He just needed to find out how. And she was not allowed to help him.

* * *

The year is 2006, and James is sixteen months old and growing fast. The blonde boy knows that he has disappeared again, and it is the fourth time now. Four times in three months – and it will swiftly accelerate until he stays away more than he stays home. In a way, that is sad, but there is nothing anyone can do about it. All he can do is give Harry a clue where to search, and hopefully that will help Harry create stronger bonds between himself and his boy.

Carefully he removes the tiny magnets with words on them from the refrigerator and begins to write the message that she has given him.

* * *

Harry returned home with James approximately forty minutes after arriving at the Grangers' place. Draco was asleep in the parlour, and Piper was sitting beside him, worriedly watching over him. She looked up when she heard them coming. "Where'd you guys go?" she asked.

Harry opened his mouth to reply, but lost his words when Draco stirred and woke up. He peered up at Harry with sleepy, reddish eyes.

"You found him," he croaked.

Harry hurried to his lover's side. Put a hand on his flushed face. Blimey, he was burning up! He had never been so worried about Draco before, and it made him say things that he did not mean. "'Course I did, silly, you think I'd return home without him, huh?"

"No," Draco said and managed the shadow of a smile. "I didn't drown."

"How sad – I mean, I'm glad," Harry hurried to correct himself. "Sorry, Dracums, I'm just so scared right now. You don't intend to quit on me, do you?"

"Quit on you? Never. I'm not that bad."

"Not that bad? If the fever gets any higher we'll have to take you to St. Mungo's stat."

"That won't be necessary. I'm already feeling better. But I'm tired."

"So get some sleep," Harry said, and bent down to kiss Draco's forehead.

Harry reluctantly tended to his pile of Auror homework, casting concerned glances in Draco's direction every two minutes, every time afraid to see that Draco had stopped breathing or something. But his lover's chest rose and sank rhythmically, and nothing seemed to trouble him in his feverish sleep. Ultimately, when Harry was too tired to continue his studying, he carefully lifted Draco from off the couch and carried him up the stairs to their bedroom. Right before snuggling down himself he checked Draco's temperature. A hundred and six. That was not good, not good at all. He hoped that Draco would sleep off the fever, because if he did not and the fever continued to rise his life would soon be threatened.

Harry must have fallen asleep quite quickly, because he was awakened by a hard slap in the face. Shocked out of sleep he sat up in bed and surveyed his surroundings in confusion. "What, what, what?" he said drowsily, expecting villains to peer down at him from every corner.

"No, no, no…" Draco thrashed beside him, troubled by something in a dream. He was violently flailing his arms about and had probably hit Harry involuntarily without knowing it.

Harry tried to calm his lover with soft whispers, but it did not seem to work.

"No, don't go into the forest… no… don't… so much blood… so much blood…"

"Sssch, Dracums, it's all right, it's just a dream, just a dream," Harry cooed. "Wake up."

"_No!_ Don't, don't, don't… Harry, he's going to kill me! He's… AAAAAHHH!" Draco shot up from the pillow with a wild look in his grey eyes, his blond hair rumpled and standing on end. "He shot me! He shot me!" He hysterically tore at his T-shirt to reveal his stomach. When he could not find any blood he sighed with relief and sank back against the pillow. "It was a dream… just a dream…"

Harry tenderly caressed Draco's cheek. "It's all right now, baby," he murmured, "it's over."

He stared at him with wild eyes. "He shot me, Harry! He _shot_ me!"

Harry knitted his brows. "Who shot you?"

Draco looked shocked and _very_ astonished. "Ron. Ron shot me. With a gun. A _Muggle_ gun. He shot me. Why did he shoot me?"

Harry jerked. Ron? Shoot Draco? Indeed, why?

"You must've confused him with someone else, it can't have been Ron. Ron would never do anything like that."

"I know," Draco assured him. "But I also know what I saw, and Ron shot me. But he was… different somehow. Older. You think it's some sort of premonition?"

Harry snorted and chuckled ironically. "Premonition? Right. A premonition of what?"

"Why, my death of course! Are you think or what? What could elicit a stronger premonition than one's own death, you idiot?" "You almost sound like yourself again, Draco. Are you feeling better? Sounds to me as if you're casting off that fever fine. Here, let me check it." But when he saw Draco's temperature the mocking smile faded from his face. "Draco, we need to take you to the hospital right now, and there's no time for objections."

Draco frowned. "What? Why? What's wrong? Aren't I getting any better?"

"You have a hundred and eight, for crying out loud! We're going to St. Mungo's _now_! I won't let anything as trivial as a bloody fever take you away from me!"

"Ta-take me away from you? What are you talking about Harry? I feel fine, it really can't be that bad…"

"Not that bad! According to this thermometer you're on the verge of dying! Now get your arse out of that bed – that is, if you can stand on your own. I'll have Piper bring the Floo powder. We'll use the fireplace in the library. Stay here!"

He ran out of the room and down to the left wing of the second floor where Piper had been given two rooms of her own and banged on the door. Shouting at the top of his lungs he ordered her to get dressed stat, get the Floo powder, and come to the library. When she asked him why he ignored her and ran back to the main stairs. He could hear her shouting after him; furious with her for not doing as she was told he turned back and yelled: "Draco's dying, for fuck's sake! Didn't you give him anything for the fever? He needs treatment _now_!" Then he continued up the stairs and ran to their bedroom in utter panic. Draco was still lying in bed, but he was alive. Thank Merlin, he was alive. "I can't get up," he said, and his voice was trembling with fear. "I can't get up, Harry. I really am sick, aren't I? I'm going to die, aren't I?"

"No, your not going to die," Harry murmured reassuringly, and gently lifted Draco into his arms, "I won't let you, okay? I love you, just remember that, and if you ever bloody leave me again I'll resurrect you and kill you, you hear me?"

Draco merely moaned pitifully. Out in the hallway, they met Piper in her nightgown. She held out a small brown bag. "Here, the Floo powder." Harry nodded towards the library. "Go ahead and tell them we're coming," he told her, "make them prepare the best bloody doctor they've got. _Go!_"

Piper did not need another order; she saw how bad it was and ran directly to the library.

When Harry entered the fireplace and prepared to throw in a handful of Floo powder he felt Draco's body sag even more in his arms, and he could just about hear the blonde's voice when he whispered: "Harry, I'm sorry, but I think I'm gonna faint…"

"_ST. MUNGO'S HOSPITAL!_" They spun quickly forward until the acoustics of the library were traded for those in the hospital waiting room. He felt a brief rush of relief when he saw that Piper had managed to summon several physicians and nurses and that they were all waiting for them in front of the fireplace. As soon as Harry stepped out of the fireplace they rushed forward and put Draco on a stretcher, and the last thing Harry remembered was the excruciating pain that pierced his heart when he saw them disappear down the corridor.

* * *

Harry sat on a chair in the waiting room, bent forward with his elbows resting on his knees, his face covered in his hands. In the hurry to get Draco to the hospital they had totally forgotten about James, so Piper had returned home to baby-sit him while Harry waited for news about his lover. He had never been so scared and so worried in his entire life. Almost an hour had passed since they arrived by fire, and still nothing.

_ Please, don't let him die, please, don't let him die_, he chanted in his mind.

When another thirty minutes had passed without any sign of the nurses that had taken Draco to the emergency room, Piper showed up – dressed this time. Harry knitted his brows with suspicion and confusion. "What are you doing here?" he asked. "Where's James?"

Piper took a seat next to him. "He disappeared again."

Harry shot up from his chair. "_What!?_ Why didn't you keep a better watch on him!?"

"I tried, but that kid really knows how to fool his aunt," Piper muttered, somewhat irritated.

Harry prepared to leave. "I have to go find him before Draco finds out he's gone."

"Don't bother – I've already looked in all the obvious places."

"Oh, don't you know anything! He only goes to the _un_obvious places!"

"Harry, poor little thing, there isn't any such word as 'unobvious'."

"Fuck you." But just as he was about to Disapparate, a nurse came up to him, and anxious to hear how Draco was doing he decided to remain.

"We have stabilised Mr. Malfoy and managed to get his fever down," she informed him with a friendly smile. "You can go see him now."

Relieved, Harry hurried down the corridor to the room that the nurse had indicated. Draco was lying in the bed, looking extremely tired and beat. He smiled when Harry entered. "Hey," he said, and tried to sit up. "I'm sorry I scared you so much, Harry. I'm not going to do it again, I promise."

"You had better not," Harry said, and sat down on the edge of the hospital bed. "How long they're making you stay here?"

"Just over the night, for observation, nothing serious," Draco ensured. "They've given me drugs so I can sleep."

"Good."

Draco closed his heavy eyelids. "How's James?"

Harry bit his lower lip. Telling Draco the truth about that would not be a good idea at the moment. "Er, he's fine. He's at home with Piper. Sleeping like a baby, he is."

"Great," Draco yawned, and then he fell asleep.

Harry sat there all night, watching his lover sleep and look so frail and vulnerable. It felt terrible having to lie to Draco, but he simply could not tell the truth.

* * *

Draco was feeling fine the following morning, and was permitted to go home earlier than expected. There was no sign of fever, but he still had a sore throat. The Healers had been very surprised to learn that the Feverflutop that Piper had given him had had no effect whatsoever, because Feverflutop was supposed to take any symptom of flu and fever out of the body within five minutes. It was a mystery how Draco's fever could have risen to a hundred and eight in such a short time, and it probably would remain so. When they got home, Draco went straight to James room to greet his boy. Harry followed with a heavy heart, still unable to tell his lover what had happened.

The blonde came back out of the room rather quickly. "Is he in the living room, then?" he asked the mute Harry. "James!"

But after a few minutes of search and still deeper silence from Harry, Draco understood the situation. "He's vanished again, hasn't he? Goddammit, Harry! Why couldn't you tell me?"

"I couldn't. I was afraid that you'd…" His words trailed off.

The anger drained from Draco's features. "Sorry I yelled at you, it's not your fault. So, any idea where he went this time?"

Harry gloomily shook his head.

"Then let's give him some time to return of his own accord."

Harry stared at him in disbelief. He was utterly surprised to hear that come out of Draco, whom always worried about everything when it came to James. "Are you serious? You're just going to let it be?"

"Yeah."

"For real?"

"Yeah. I trust him to come back to us. This is his home, right?"

But, like the first time he disappeared, several days passed with no sign of James whatsoever, and at least Harry got a little bit more worried each day that passed. When a whole week had gone by he was ready to call in his teachers at Auror School to help him find the boy. Fortunately, there was no need for that.

Harry descended the stairs to the first floor with intention of going out to the kitchen when he spotted a movement in the corner of his eye. Instinctively, he raised his wand and turned towards it.

The blond boy was standing in the parlour, by the French windows.

Harry took a few steps towards him, but then stopped. "You… you never answered my questions," he said urgently.

The blond boy slowly shook his head. "There is no time. I come bearing a warning. Lord Pywercaseley is planning a hit on Hogwarts because he has found that its walls hold something that he wants, and which I believe you do not want him to get," he said with that low, melancholy, yet melodic voice. His eyes were a startling green, but the sadness in them made them seem almost black.

Harry frowned. "What do you mean? I never left anything behind at Hogwarts…" Then it suddenly hit him. '…something that he wants, and which I believe you do not want him to get…' "James."

He left without saying a word to Draco; the blonde would only hamper him with his hysteria. The moment he arrived at Hogwarts – through one of the fireplaces that was open for any visitor from the outside – he opened the Marauder's Map, which he had brought along from home. Swiftly searching through the grounds and the rooms and the many passageways he discovered the little dot with the name 'James Potter' in his old dorm. How could he have wound up there? Was not it Apparition that he did when he hiccuped? Harry pocketed the map and sprinted off towards the staircases that led up to Gryffindor Tower, well aware that he had to find James before Pywercaseley.

Unfortunately, he was stopped right outside the portrait hole by none other than the Fat Lady. "I can't let you through without a password, laddie," she said firmly.

"But it's me, it's Harry Potter, I used to be in Gryffindor!" Harry protested violently. "Please let me through, you know I'm trustworthy…"  
"Oh, I know that very well, Harry, but I can't let you through without the password. I'm sorry."

Harry let out a roar of wrath. "You bloody stupid thing! I have to get in there – my son's in there and he could be killed any second! What's the password? Fortuna Major? Bumbleweed? Knickledutts? Porcsteak?"

"Sorry, Harry, all wrong." The Fat Lady regarded him with disgusting pity.

Harry turned and ran back down the stairs in search of a Gryffindor who could tell him the password, but there were no-one in sight anywhere. The school seemed to be deserted, which struck Harry as utterly disturbing. Maybe a teacher, then? He ran down the corridor to McGonagall's office and banged on the door. "Professor McGonagall! Professor McGonagall! I need your help _now_!" But there was no reply – not a sound. In despair, he decided to try the teachers' lounge in hope of finding _someone_. "Hello?" He banged on the door as hard as he could. "Professor McGonagall, are you there? Snape? Dumbledore? Professor Sprout? Anyone, please, I need help _now_! Please, just let there be someone here…"

The door opened and Professor McGonagall's small beady eyes peered out at him with a stern, disliking expression. "What is all this racket abou—" She fell silent when she saw who he was. "Harry Potter! Whatever are you doing at Hogwarts at this time?"

Anxiety and fear were consuming Harry from inside. "Professor McGonagall, awfully sorry to disturb, but I need to get inside Gryffindor Tower immediately, it's a matter of life or death."

His old teacher raised one eyebrow in bafflement. "Really, Potter, you have no business in Gryffindor Tower anymore, you should know—"

"Yes, yes, but you don't understand – my son is in there!" There were a lot of rustles and gasps in the background when Harry uttered those words, and he saw several astonished faces behind McGonagall, one of them belonging to Professor Snape who looked just as sly and devious as always.

McGonagall blinked. "Your… son? You have a boy, Potter?"

"Yes, and he has a nasty habit of disappearing every time he gets the hiccoughs, and this time he ended up in my old dorm, I just can't get in and get him out of there. Will you help me, Professor? Please, Professor, it might be too late soon."

"Too late? What do you mean, Potter?"

"Pywercaseley's out for him to get to me! Now shut up and come help me, for crying out loud! Do I need to hit you before you listen to me?!"

McGonagall looked offended. "No, certainly not. I will accompany you to Gryffindor Tower to check your story, and I assure you that I won't be pleased if this turns out to be a boyish prank!" She began to escort him down the corridor.

Harry snorted in a quite Malfoyish fashion – something that would have made Draco proud had he heard him. "Oh, please. I'm not a boy anymore, it'll be my 20th birthday in a few months. And you should know me better than to pull such idiotic stunts after saving this school at least once every year I went here. Could you please hurry up? I'm worried that something bad's happened to James." He ran on ahead, and from a distance he heard voices behind him, but the only words he caught were Snape's: "This I've got to see." Probably had a big smirk on his sallow face, too, the bloody bastard. But Harry ignored him and kept on running, knowing that every second that ticked by was crucial for James's survival. When he finally reached the top of the stairs he was panting, but none of the others were in sight. "_Come_ _ON_!" he called after them.

McGonagall hurried as fast as she could on her old legs, and when she had finally, finally opened the portrait hole with the password – Dungbeetle – Harry rushed through the common room towards the staircase that led to the dormitories. His hair standing on end (more than usual due to the total fright, mind you) he slammed open the door to his old dorm and immediately spotted the small boy on the bed that had once been his. James was smiling, as if he was very pleased with himself.

Harry swooped him up into his arms and kissed his little head. "Damn you, James, you really scared your father and me!" In the doorway, McGonagall, Snape, and a few other teachers gasped in astonishment; they had obviously all thought that Harry lied about having a son. He turned to them. "I need to get him home to Draco before Pywer—"

The east wall crumbled down under the weight of some exceptionally advanced magic, leaving only gravel and dust. In through the fresh hole came the Dark Lord himself. It was too late; he had already found them.

The Percy Weasley that Harry had known were nowhere to be recognised in this man's distorted and vicious face. And the moment he saw Harry there, holding the boy protectively in his arms, he smiled and shook his head. "There now, Harry, you don't really expect to be able to protect him, do you? He is mine."

"No," Harry said firmly. "This boy will never be yours, not now and not in twenty years – never!"

Pywercaseley laughed – a roaring, malicious laughter. "Suit yourself, Potter. Remember that I warned you."

And before Harry could react the Dark Lord had directed the Avada Kadavra curse at him, and as he felt the smoggy greenish smoke hit his forehead he could swear that he heard Draco scream – but that was not possible, was it?

* * *

_(To be continued…)_

"Boku o michibiku kasuka-na shiruetto…"

© 2004, Pipeline Vintervila Karlsson.


	29. And so the tables were turned, part 3

Rating: PG-17/NC-17 contains OOC and mpreg  
Pairing: H/D  
**Disclaimer: **All characters belong to J.K. Rowling, except for my creations which are: Piper, Tom, James, the Forgettes, and the mystery teens.

**Disclaimer II:** The nickname "Dracums" belongs to Golden.

**Author's note:** This part turned out longer than I had expected… or rather: everything that I wanted to include in this part didn't fit, so some of it will come in part four instead. Sometimes I like to linger, if you know what I mean… :p  
**Author's note II:** "Dono-hito desu ka" means "Who are you?" or "Who is that?" (directly translated it's "who be?")  
Dedicated to Golden. ;)

* * *

**And so the tables were turned… (3)**

When Draco woke up that morning he had no idea that he later that day would witness his beloved Harry being hit with the death curse, and for a few naïve hours he thought that this was quite a good day. Sure, they still had not found James, and the boy certainly had not returned of his own accord, but Draco felt optimistic about this day. Something good was going to happen.

Although, Piper did have bad news that day.

"Where's Harry?" Draco asked her as he looked through that afternoon's owl post. _Hmm, a letter from Neville Longbottom… interesting…_

He expected her to reply 'He's at school, remember?' or something of the sort, but instead he got a hasty "He's gone to his old dorm at Hogwarts to collect James before Lord Pywercaseley finds him and makes him his own private slave much earlier than was originally intended."

Draco blinked at her for several seconds. Then, he said, "Huh?"

"He's gone to his old dorm at—"

"I know what you said! But what do you mean 'to collect James before Lord Pywercaseley finds him'?"

"Somehow Pywercaseley found out that James was at Hogwarts and decided to strike once he's unprotected by you guys," Piper said and stuffed her mouth with tomato salad.

All the strength drained out of Draco. His hands were shaking. "Py-Pywercaseley's after my son? And Harry went over there all by himself? Is he mad?!" He hurried to the fireplace.

Piper looked after him. "Hey, where're you going?"

"What do you think? I'm going after him, of course!"

Draco wondered why Harry always had that annoying and infuriating need to protect him all the time – was not he a man?! He could look after himself, Harry knew that! Only two years ago he had killed sixty-seven Death Eaters in one swipe, for crying out loud! And Harry thought he was not focused enough to go after _one man_!

_ Oh, I'll kill the bastard when I find him!_ he thought furiously and slammed a fist of Floo powder down into the fire. _I'll bloody make him see that he's a fucking moron for taking such decisions without me! Who does he think he is!?_

Draco stormed up to Gryffindor Tower, shaking with anger and humiliation, and fortunately the portrait hole was already open – otherwise he might have been stuck there for an eternity trying to figure out the password. When he had run up the stairs to his and Harry's old room he noticed that Professors McGonagall, Snape, and Sprout were standing just inside the doorway, looking at something with terror in their eyes. Draco frowned and turned his head in the direction of their stares – and gasped. Harry was by their old bed, protectively holding little James in his arms, and in front of him was Lord Pywercaseley, whom had raised his wand and was just uttering the death curse, the worst of the Unforgivable Curses. Draco felt as if time had stopped and everything was moving in slow motion, as if the air had turned into invisible syrup, and he screamed. Could not control himself. "_NOOOOO!_" It could not be true, it must not be true! He could not lose his Harry, not now, not like this, absolutely not like this… _no… no… no…_

He watched Harry fall backwards, but for a moment he appeared to be floating in mid-air, a surprised and terrified look in his lovely green eyes, before he slammed into the wall behind him and fell to the floor, all the time with a firm grip on James to prevent him from getting hurt in the fall. When it was all over, Pywercaseley barked out a demonic, deranged laughter. With confident steps, he walked up to the limp Potter with the intention of grabbing the boy – but then James hiccuped again and disappeared. Pywercaseley's smile faded from his thin lips. "_No_! The boy!" Draco felt slightly relieved over the fact that his son had got away from the Dark Lord, but then he remembered Harry.

He ran up to Harry, not giving a damn that he was also running directly into the Dark Lord's line of sight. He kneeled beside his lover.

"Harry? Oh, lord, Harry… no… you can't die on me, not like this, not now… I need you, goddammit! _I need you…_" His voice broke, and he began to cry. Could not see Harry through all the tears, so he stubbornly blotted his eyes repeatedly until he had clear sight again because it was extremely important that he saw Harry now. If everything else broke down and was destroyed, he wanted to at least be able to see Harry. Just see him.

Someone was taking a gentle hold of his shoulders and forcing him to get up on his feet again, and he was too weak to break lose. "There now, Draco, there is nothing you can do for him. Just step over here with us, just step outside here…" He knew it was Snape's voice, but he still could not figure out what he was saying to him. Leave Harry? No, never. He would never leave Harry. They had made a promise to each other never to leave one another, and he intended to keep it even if it meant being killed by the same curse that had ultimately killed his Harry.

Lord Pywercaseley had obviously been taken aback by James's disappearance and been temporarily paralysed by indecision and uncertainty, but now he was regaining his wits and Draco immediately understood why Snape was intent on getting him away from there.  
In the farthest corner of the room, Harry moaned and got up on his hands and knees, carefully shaking his head as if to clear it. At first Draco did not register exactly what was happening, but when he did he tried to run back to his lover. Snape's grip was firm, and he could not break lose of it. But he could shout. "Harry! Harry, you're alive! Bloody Hell, you're alive! I love you!"

Harry got up on his feet with some effort. His scar was bleeding again. With fury in his eyes he met the Dark Lord's gaze without the slightest trace of fear. "I've really tried to see you as the Percy Weasley I once knew, and I've really tried to tell myself that you're just doing this because you're confused or whatever, but now I reeeaaally hate you! First you try to kill me, and then you try to steal my son in front of my boyfriend! Old friendship counts for nothing anymore – I will fight you like I fought Voldemort, and I will bloody Hell kill you as soon as I get the chance, mark my words!" he hissed at the dark-clad figure.

Pywercaseley took a few shaking steps backwards. "You… you didn't die… you were supposed to die… why didn't you die?" he stuttered nervously.

"Because I'm protected by the greatest power there is – love," Harry said with gritted teeth. "Nothing can kill love, not even your lame Avada Kedavra curse. Now get the bloody Hell away from me before I choke you with my bare hands!"

Fortunately, the Dark Lord listened to his order and left through the hole he had made earlier.

Hogwarts was once again a safe place.

But for how long?

* * *

When they came home they found James sitting in his own bed with a big smile on his little cute baby face, and neither of them could bring himself to reproach him for vanishing like that and expose them all to great danger. He was just a child, and he was not aware of his own actions yet. "Fafa," he said, and put his right index finger in his mouth.

Harry stroked his hair. "Yeah, we're here," he said lovingly. Draco and he stayed in there for fifteen minutes or so, until James fell asleep. Then they went into their own bedroom and shut the door behind them. Harry sat down on the edge of the bed and covered his face in his hands. It had been a long day.

"How are you feeling?" Draco asked worriedly.

"I'm fine. Just fine."

"You're… you're not dead, are you?"

Harry looked up at him. "Wha'? No, I'm not dead. Do I look dead to you?"

Draco squirmed. "No, but it's just that… you've been hit with the death curse thrice now, and… yet you lived. Every time. You always live, Harry. Wait, let me help you with that." He conjured up a few serviettes, a bowl of hot water, and a Band-Aid. He carefully scrubbed the surface of Harry's scar with soft, tender strokes. "Wow! You have another flash of lightning now."

"What?" Harry got up and moved to the mirror to have a look. Draco was right. Another small flash of lightning had gone out from the original one. He could not help but laugh. "If this continues I'll have a spider web on my forehead within a year," he said with amusement.

"Don't joke about that," Draco pouted, "it's not funny. I almost lost you today. _Again_, Harry. Why didn't you just tell me where you were going? We could have fought him off together. You always patronise me, and I don't like it."

He turned to his lover. "I'm sorry, Dracums. I just didn't want you to come to any harm."

"But you willingly go out risking your life and almost make me a widower?"

"A widower? You can't be widowed unless you're married, Draco."

"Same shit. Almost feels as if I'm married to you 'cause you're sure as condescending and overly protective as a legal spouse," Draco muttered.

Harry laughed and went over to him. "Don't be silly." He hushed Draco with a kiss. "You don't really want to be married, do you?" Draco leaned in for the kiss and clasped Harry's shoulders. He swiftly breathed a low, "no." Harry smiled teasingly. "I always knew you weren't the marrying type."

"Shut up and kiss me."

Harry willingly obeyed and literally stuck his tongue down Draco's throat. The blonde pressed his lips so hard against Harry's it hurt, but he did not care. They both seemed to be overcome by hot desire, still as spontaneous as it had been at the beginning of their relationship. In spite of their having been a couple for almost five years they still made love on a regular basis; never less than thrice a day every day of the week (with exception for the last few months of Draco's pregnancy and a few short periods during the pregnancy when he 'didn't feel like it'). As usual, Draco was the one most desperate to get it on, and he pulled Harry down on top of the bed while showering him with kisses, careful to place himself beneath Harry, though. Although Draco disliked being called the girl in their relationship he did not hide the fact that he liked it better with Harry on top, and since Harry liked it better on top he never objected. He knew Draco too well to object to anything. Therefore he let himself be swept away on an ocean of emotions as Draco swiftly unbuttoned and unzipped his trousers, instantly putting his hand inside them and making Harry gasp from the touch. He bent his head low and began to trace Draco's neckline with kisses and fleeting licks, but the blonde made him stop. "No," he breathed, "come inside me now, quick, now. I need you now, Harry."

Harry nodded somewhat absent-mindedly and shifted his weight slightly. Gently he pulled the blonde's trousers and boxers down and started to remove his own. "No, no, no," Draco protested, "don't mind your trousers, baby, don't mind them, they won't hurt me, _hurry_!" So Harry hurried to enter his lover, joining them by the hips, and they moved in perfect synchrony. Harry's thrusts rocked Draco's body, eliciting small guttural animal noises from him, and they excited Harry further, making him moving faster and faster until he felt the familiar tingling rising from his loins. But he did not want it to end, not so soon, he wanted their wonderful union to last forever, so he held out as much as he could, aware of Draco's fluttering eyelashes and the trembles that passed through them both. He would not be able to hold it off much longer now… he was shaking with impending orgasm.

Draco began to shout, and that was the end of Harry. He released himself into the warm body around him, all power draining from his body leaving nothing but a limp mass of exhausted flesh. Panting, he collapsed onto Draco, who still seemed to be far off in pleasure land. Harry had to stroke him for a while to make him come down from there. He kissed Harry's black, roughed-up hair. "How could I score someone as beautiful and perfect as you? I don't deserve you."

"In that case I don't deserve you, either," Harry pointed out. He liked lying on Draco's stomach like that, his ear against the blonde's rising and falling chest, because he could hear Draco's heartbeats pounding in there, and after a while he could not tell them from his own. He liked the illusion of them being one entity with one heart, one brain, one soul. He lovingly caressed his lover's side.

It was a cold night, even inside the Manor, so they reluctantly slept in their pyjamas. The following morning Harry woke up in Draco's arms, and with a growing smile on his lips he looked up at the sleeping blonde. His long fringe was almost covering his closed eyes, and he looked incredibly sexy. That long, blond hair always made him look so stylish, so fresh. Harry remembered the haircut Draco had had when they first fell in love; short, straight, smooth. But now it almost curled at the edges. Shoulder length suited him so much better, even though that old haircut had been nice too.

Draco's nose twitched, and then his eyes opened. Harry looked up into that sleepy silver grey, and murmured, "Good morning, baby."

Draco returned his smile. "Mornin'." He yawned and scratched his chin. Harry always marvelled over the smoothness of his skin, because the blonde never needed to shave; he always had baby smooth skin and had never developed a growth of beard. Harry, on the other hand, had fresh bristles. "You awake long?"

"Couldn't tell," Harry said, mesmerised by the blonde's grey eyes. "I could stare at you for several hours and it would still feel as five seconds."

Draco smiled and pulled Harry tighter into his embrace. "You're always so sweet…"

Harry turned to lie on his back beside Draco. "You know, I've been thinking…"

Draco lifted himself off the pillow and supported himself on his left elbow. "Yeah? About what?"

Harry met his lover's eyes anew. "I thought that maybe we could go away for a week or two, just you and me, maybe to some tropical place," he said solemnly. "Eat some good exotic food, get some sun, bathe in the ocean… just relax and have a good time. So much has happened lately, and we've been so stressed out… I think we need some relaxation."

The blonde seemed surprised by this. "Go away? On a holiday? Not that I don't want to, but what about your Auror studies, Harry? You can't just take days off like that."

"Oh, I was gonna quit that anyways."

"You were?"

"Yeah. It doesn't feel right. It's not what I want."

Draco traced Harry's stomach with a finger. "Then you shouldn't do it." Harry grabbed Draco by the shoulders and pulled him up onto his stomach so they were face to face. The blonde got a mischievous smile on his face. "You wanna play, Harry?"

Harry laughed and pulled Draco's face closer to his. They shared a lovely, tender, tentative kiss. Harry would have wanted it to last longer, but Draco abruptly pulled away from him. Knitting his brows, he looked up at his lover. Draco had a weird, screwed-up expression on his face, and he looked almost as if he was trying to hold something back. "Whassamatter?" he asked suspiciously.

"Nothing," Draco said quickly, but his eyes were terrified, and his skin had turned paler than pale. A greyish pale.

Harry lifted his head slightly off the pillow. "You sure? You don't look as if it's nothing, you—" He was not rewarded enough time to finish his sentence, because in the next moment a gurgling, wet sound escaped Draco – and then he threw up all over Harry.

Harry instantly pushed Draco off him and shot out of the bed. "What the Hell are you doing, you bastard!" he hollered, desperately trying to brush the vomit off his face and pyjama shirt. "That is totally disgusting, Draco! Goddammit!" He rushed off to the bathroom.

Draco ran after him. "Oh, Harry, I'm so sorry!" His last word was distorted by the bubbling laughter that sprang up from the pit of his stomach. He laughed so hard he had to bend over double not to collapse into a pile of jittery limbs. "I'm sorry!" he hissed between bursts of laughter as Harry ran into the bathroom. "I'm sorry!"

Harry turned in the doorway, furious with the blonde. "It's not funny!" Then he demonstratively slammed the door shut behind him and turned on the water in the bathtub. He scrubbed the worst of it off with hot water and soap from the washbasin and shrugged out of his soiled clothes. Angrily muttering to himself he stepped into the bathtub and added as much soap and bubbles that would fit in there. After only a minute or two there was a knock on the door. "Harry? Are you still mad at me?"

"You bet your pink little arse I am!" he yelled back at him.

"It's not pink, and I'm sorry. How many times do you want me to tell you? A hundred? A thousand? Because I'll do it, you know. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. See, I'm already up in seven, do you wish me to continue? I'm sorry. I didn't mean to vomit in your face, it just came over me, I couldn't stop it. Will you forgive me?"

Harry muttered for a while before answering. "Maybe if you leave me alone so I can _clean up_!"

There was an oppressive silence. "I'm sorry." Draco's footsteps faded away.

That last apology had not only sounded sincere, but also hurt. Harry felt bad for yelling at Draco like that, he could not help that he had been sick. He decided to present an apology of his own when he got out of the tub.

He met up with Draco down at breakfast in the first floor dining hall. Piper was already sitting at the table, too, so Harry felt a bit uneasy.

Would he have to apologise in front of her now?

Draco said nothing when he took a seat opposite him, but kept chewing on his sandwich.

"Look," Harry began, squirming in his seat, and instantly noticed that Draco stiffened, "I didn't mean for it to come out like that. I'm not denying that I got angry, but I shouldn't have yelled at you. You couldn't help it. And, well, I guess you couldn't help laughing either because it was actually rather fun, come to think of it… I'm sorry."

Draco met his gaze. "Apology accepted," he said with a faint smile.

Harry nodded and began to make himself a sandwich.

Piper was watching them warily. "What were you up to earlier? One could hear you scream a mile away."

They were silent for a few seconds. Then Draco sighed. "I felt a little queasy this morning, and… I kind of puked in Harry's face…"

Harry blushed at the memory.

Piper blinked twice. Then she chuckled. "I see that you've developed the symptoms rather early this time, haven't you? What can it be, a week now?"

Draco frowned. "What symptoms?" he queried warily.

His sister shrugged as if it was no biggie. "Oh, I just put some Priberty Potion in your tea…"

Harry choked on his sandwich and coughed violently.

"You _WHAT!_?" Draco's face had turned an angry grey-red.

"You know, actually I have to tell you guys something. Remember when you had that fever and the Feverflutop wouldn't work? See, that was kind of my fault… turned out the Priberty Potion cancels out all antibiotics."

"You gave me potion when I was ill!"

"Yeah, in the tea I brought you. And I've been pouring a little potion in all your drinks lately, even in the Coke bottles you hide in your room."

"You have _more!?_" Harry exclaimed with a disgusted look at Draco.

But Draco did not reply. He was shaking from head to toe with silent anger, and he just kept staring straight ahead into thin air. Then he slowly rose from the chair and started to walk out of the room. Harry and Piper looked after him.

"I'm going to St. Mungo's before any of this has gone too far," he said with gritted teeth. "I'm going to terminate this before I get too emotionally attached."

Piper gasped in terror. "But you can't do that! This is an innocent child we're talking about!"

"It hasn't had time to develop into a child yet."

"Dracums, are you sure about this?" Harry asked cautiously. "I mean, don't you even want to think it through…"

"I've already though it through – _and this is not what I want_. All I wanted was to be alone with you, but I already have to share you with another human being. I don't want to share you with another child. I'm taking the Knight Bus, and don't try to stop me."

He went out of the front door and slammed it shut behind him.

Harry and Piper stared after him in shock.

Just a moment later the door was opened anew and Draco stared in at them with an offended look in his eyes. "Harry, why aren't you coming?" he whined.

Harry was taken aback. "But I thought you said you didn't want to be stopped, I—"

"That was reversed psychology, you dimwit! Now get your arse out here! You don't expect me to go alone, do you? This is your spawn as much as mine!" He slammed the door shut again.

Harry looked at Piper, whom simply shrugged.

He hurried after Draco and found him impatiently shifting his feet just outside the front door. He looked cold, so Harry conjured up a jacket for him. The blonde said nothing, merely walked a few hundred feet down the long driveway, stood by the shoulder of the road, and put his wand out. A fraction of a second later the Knight Bus appeared out of thin air, stopping right beside them on shrieking brakes. The doors flew open with a BANG! and a conductor jumped out. Harry recognised him immediately; it was the same conductor that had greeted him the night he ran away from the Dursleys, but seeing as he had grown older he no longer had pimples all over his face. Clearing his throat, the conductor began to chant his old litany: "Hello, my name is Stan Shunpike and I will be your conductor for this evening. If you—"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, shove it or I'll hit you black and blue!" Draco hissed, and stepped on board with Harry in close tow. "St. Mungo's Hospital, please, and make it bloody quick!"

Harry apologised to Stan and took a seat next to the sulking blonde.

As usual, they were in for a bumpy ride on the roads of England and Wales, and when they finally stopped outside the display window with the naked dummies Draco was green in the face. He desperately inhaled the smoggy – but, to him, for the moment fresh – air when they got off the bus. "Remind me to never take the bloody bus while I'm pregnant again," he said weakly. But as soon as they had got inside the hospital he returned to his usual self – maybe even more so. He stalked straight up to the information desk and forced his way by the people in queue. "You there!" he said to the Healer behind the information desk with genuine hostility and cold authority. "Where's the maternity ward?"

People behind him were angrily shouting at him to get in queue, but he ignored them all. The Healer in front of him looked stricken. "Surely, sir, you would have no business there…," she began, but Draco interrupted her with a fierce snarl.

"How dare you question me? Do you know who I am!?"

She immediately began to fidget. "I'm sorry, Mr. Malfoy, it will not happen again. It's on the third floor in the left wing."

"Thank you very much for nothing," Draco muttered condescendingly, and turned on his heels.

Harry had to run to keep up with his lover. And when they found the maternity ward the circus started. Draco grabbed the first midwife he found and started giving out orders. "You! I want an abortion and I want it now!" Everyone in the full waiting room – all of them women – turned to stare at Draco.

The midwife he had grabbed giggled nervously. "Abortion? Young man, this is no place to be joking around—"

"_I AM NOT JOKING!_" Draco bellowed furiously. "My sister gave me some sort of portion that made me pregnant _and I want it terminated!_ Are you wealthy enough to question me like that wench downstairs did when I just asked her for directions? I am Draco Malfoy, and I demand that you give me an abortion _now_!"

Harry was shocked to see the blonde so aggressive. Shivers travelled down his spine. It was as if he was reliving the month during which Draco had lost his memory and turned into his old vicious self as the result of a curse gone wrong. This was not the Draco Malfoy that he knew and loved; this was Lucius Malfoy's heir. And he was taking advantage of his name to get what he wanted. That was wrong, utterly wrong. "Dracums, calm down," Harry pleaded with him, "nothing will be solved as long as you're shouting like that. People are just going to think you're mad."

"Oh, yeah? Don't you think they already do, Harry? I'm pregnant, for crying out loud! Isn't that the biggest humiliation a man can live through?"

"I wouldn't know 'cause I've never been pregnant," Harry teased lovingly.

The Healer-midwife turned her attention to Harry, probably because he was friendlier. "And who are you, sir? Men aren't allowed in here, so…"

Harry hesitated only a moment before replying: "I'm the father."

Once again the entire ward grew silent. Then somebody recognised him. "Look! It's Harry Potter!"

"Harry Potter's got a boyfriend?" someone else said, and the gossip was on.

_ This will probably be in the Prophet tomorrow_, Harry thought gloomily.

Draco impatiently shifted his feet. "Well? Are you gonna give me an abortion or not?" he asked, but much calmer and nicer this time. It did him good to have Harry by his side.

The midwife gaped at them both like a fish for a few moments, but then she swallowed hard and nodded. She made an exception just that once and let Harry come with them to support Draco, most likely because she wanted to keep him as calm as possible. A hospital was no place to make a racket, and if anyone could make a racket it was Draco! Harry felt uncomfortable when he sat down on a chair in the corner of the room that the Healer escorted them to. He watched as she took out disposable hospital clothes from a tall cabinet beside him and gave them to Draco, asking him to change into them. Draco's face swelled with fury anew. "Are you gonna watch?!" he hollered.

"Sorry," both Harry and the Healer said, turning their backs to him.

"Not you, Harry," Draco said, and he actually laughed. "You see me naked all the time, baby."

The Healer made a squeaky noise at that comment.

The blonde swiftly changed into the disposable hospital clothes and sat on the examination bed in silence while the midwife ran a few tests on him. Before anyone could perform an abortion on him they needed to know that he actually _was_ pregnant first. Draco did not object to that line of thought. He probably understood her scepticism towards a said pregnant boy. When she left the room to get the sample checked, he smiled at Harry and said, "She should see James. She'd probably have a major heart attack if she learnt I've already given birth to a healthy baby boy."

They laughed.

Only a minute later, the Healer returned with the results, and judging by her pale grey expression they had come out positive.

Draco made a wry face.

"Seems like you've been telling the truth, Mr. Malfoy. These tests indicate that you indeed are pregnant." She looked up from her test papers. "This is incredible. How could this be possible?"

The blonde sighed. "I told you – my sister gave me a potion. Priberty Potion, I think she calls it. Said she was assigned to create such a potion for you lot, but for women of course. Unfortunately she made a few changes that would enable men to get pregnant as well, and she was so kind as to try it on me two years ago. And now she's bloody done it again!"

The Healer jerked audibly. "Again? You mean she's done this before?"

"Yes! I just told you, two years ago she did."

"And did you take care of it yourself two years ago?"

Harry was warmed to see a smile form on Draco's lips, even though it was a sad one. "I was supposed to take a counter potion, but I couldn't. I just couldn't do it. I had been pregnant for three weeks without knowing it then, and it was obviously too long… No, I kept the baby. _We_ kept the baby. Harry and I have the most wonderful little boy, and I don't regret anything. But this time is different. We're being chased down by the Dark Lord and his Death Eaters because of who we are, and it's already dangerous for our family. Harry was almost killed last night. I don't want to bring another baby into this world… not when it's constantly going to be in danger."

The Healer seemed to have missed the last half of the recount. "You have a son? A healthy son? Born out of you, Mr. Malfoy?" she asked sceptically.

Draco looked at her as if she was crazy. "Of course we have! Are you implying that we're in some way not fit to father children?!"

"Oh, no, no! That's not what I meant at all! I beg your pardon, Mr. Malfoy."

"I sure hope you do," Draco hissed. "Now could we please get on with this? I need to get back home to my son, and Harry's supposed to be at school."

"No, I'm not," Harry protested.

"Yes, you are, Harry. You haven't told them you want to quit yet, so technically you're still a student."

"Guess you're right, Dracums," Harry said with a deep sigh.

The Healer brought forth a steaming potion and asked Draco to sit back against all the pillows on the bed. Then she probed the jug into his stiff hands. "Drink this and it'll be over in a minute."

He blinked up at her. "Oh, yeah? How? What will happen?"

"You might get a little sick, Mr. Malfoy."

"I'm already sick, how will I tell this sick from that sick?"

Now the Healer blinked in confusion. "Well… it will feel like a strange sick, and you will feel as if something is running out of your stomach, but nothing will of course, it's just a feeling."

"Nothing?" Draco echoed. He looked down at the jug in his hands.

Harry noticed that the blonde's hands were shaking, and he saw the indecision in his grey eyes. He already knew what would happen, even when his lover lifted his head and locked gazes with him.

Draco sighed. "I can't do it with you watching," he said, and lowered his hands into his lap.

Harry frowned. "What d'you mean?"

"I can't do it when you're looking at me like that, as if I'm some sort of… murderer."

Harry was taken aback. "Wha… I'm not thinking that!"

Draco sighed again. "Okay, it's all me then. _I'm_ the one who feels like a murderer. Bloody blimey flip, I can't do it. I can't do it. I guess James is going to have a little brother or sister, eh?"

Harry went over to him and put his arms around him in a reassuring embrace. "It's all right, Dracums, it doesn't matter. You know I'd love to have another baby with you. I love you."

Draco clung to him like a small child. "Thank you, Harry. I love you, too."

So instead of terminating the pregnancy they rescheduled – to come back for an ultrasound. It felt weird to do it like everyone else this time, instead of keeping it within their small family like they did with James. When they were about to leave, the Healer that had assisted them called after them: "So, I'll see you in two months, then?"

Draco blushed. He waved at her without turning around. "Yeah, sure, see you in two months, e he." Then he covered his face with his left hand.

Harry knew why she had called after them like that; because she wanted everyone else to hear, and most likely someone in particular who either happened to be there by coincidence or someone who had been called for whilst they had been in the examination room. A reporter from the Prophet. The story would be all over the magical society by tomorrow. Every single witch and wizard would know that Harry Potter was expecting a child with a boy, and not just any boy but Draco Malfoy. They would never have a private life again, because everyone would want to know everything there was to know about The Boy Who Lived Thrice and The Boy Who Gave Birth.

* * *

Piper was very pleased to hear that Draco had decided not to go through with the abortion, but she was also offended that they had chosen St. Mungo's Healers to be their midwifes instead of her. She got over herself rather quickly, though.

Draco literally jumped into their bedroom one morning approximately a month into the pregnancy, his face aglow with happiness and excitement, and Harry had to laugh at him. The blonde pulled up his jumper and stood posing before Harry. "Look!" he said brightly. "It's starting to show!" He indicated his flat belly.

"I can't see it," Harry said.

Draco sighed with mock irritation and went over to him. He put Harry's right hand on his belly. "Can you FEEL the difference, then? You always tell me how you know my body's every pore, now prove it to me."

And Harry gently, lovingly stroked the blonde's tummy. "Yeah, I feel it," he said, smiling. "I feel it. Our son."

Draco frowned in confusion. "How can you be so sure it's a son?" he asked.

"Because I've seen him."

The room was quiet for a long while.

"Excuse me? You've seen him? When? Where?"

"That night Tom locked me in the Manor," Harry told him. "He came to me, to tell me what was happening out there. I knew he was our son the minute I saw him, because he had your facial features, your hair, your grace… and my eyes. He still comes here sometimes, but never when you're around. Don't know why. Maybe he's not allowed to show himself to you yet."

The confusion on Draco's face was evident. "What are you talking about? Someone looking like me, but with your eyes, regularly comes to see you? Is that it?"

"He's our son, Draco. And we have the proof right here." He patted the blonde's stomach. "By the way, you've seen him, haven't you?"

"I have? When?"

"He was the one who saved me when Tom tried to kill me the first time. You defended Tom from him."

"That was… our son?"

"Must have been. There is no other explanation. But he won't answer my questions."

"But you can't be sure about that, can you? Maybe he's just another Death Eater out to kill you. Maybe he wishes to kill us both. That Tom was the first to come from the future might just be a coincidence."

Harry firmly shook his head. "No. I know what I felt when I saw him, and that can't be imaginary. He's our son, and he's very much alive in you right now. I want to name him Joseph."

"Joseph? Why Joseph?"

"That was my grandfather's name. Joseph Potter. It is also my middle name. Harry Joseph Potter."

"Really? You never told me. All right then… maybe I should give him a name, too? How about Alastair?"

Harry laughed. "Alastair? What kind of a name is that?"

"It's _my_ middle name!" Draco roared. "And don't laugh at me!"

But he did. "Draco Alastair Malfoy? That is _so_ ridiculous…"

"Shut up! It's Draco Alastair Mortus Malfoy."

"_MORTUS!_" Harry was dying from laughter.

"Oh, you little…!"

There was a shriek from downstairs. They exchanged one look, and then they ran down the stairs. Piper was standing in the parlour with the Daily Prophet in her hands, shaking like a leaf.

"What's wrong?" Harry asked anxiously.

She met their gazes with dark eyes. "The Death Eaters have attacked Hogwarts," she whispered.

"What?" Harry could not believe his ears.

Piper grabbed both their hands. "We need to go there now and help Dumblydonksey!" she said. And the next moment they had all orbed from the Malfoy Manor to their old school. They appeared in the grounds, well hidden by the shrubbery at the edge of the Forbidden Forest. Anxiously, they peered up at the castle.

From behind them, someone was suddenly cursing out a litany of strange sounds that were obviously meant to form words, but to Harry and Draco they meant nothing. Piper, however, stiffened and got an eerie look in her eyes. Slowly, she turned around.

So did they.

A short man with the darkest black hair was standing some ten feet into the Forest, furiously stamping his feet into the dirt. Harry and Draco's mouths fell open at the sight.

Piper rose from her hideout and took a step towards the stranger.

Draco grabbed her dress. "Piper, stay down!" he hissed.

But Piper kept on walking, and to their utter surprise she replied the strange man. "Dono-hito desu ka?"

* * *

(To be continued…)

"Boku o michibiku kasuka-na shiruetto…"


	30. And so the tables were turned, part 4

**And so the tables were turned... (HP fan fiction) part four**

Rating: PG-17/OOC/mpreg  
Pairing: H/D  
**Disclaimer:** All characters belong to J.K. Rowling, except for my creations: Piper, Tom, James, the Forgettes, the mystery teens, Yousuke and Magami Sakanoue. Sakanoue-san is named after the very popular, very skilled J-pop star Yousuke Sakanoue who did the song 'SUPER DRIVE' for Gravitation.

**Disclaimer II: **The eminent nickname "Dracums" belongs to the eminent writer Golden. ;) She is kind enough to let me borrow it.  
**Author's note:** Get ready for the start of a switch that will change everything…  
**Author's note II:** "Eigo wo hanashimasu ka" means "Do you speak English?"

**Author's note III:** 8 inches is approximately 20 centimetres.  
Dedicated to Golden. ;)

* * *

**And so the tables were turned… (4)**

Draco stared at Piper in disbelief. What had just come out of her mouth? And then he looked at the black-haired man in front of them and realised that he had understood her perfectly well. They exchanged incomprehensible lines of nonsense sounds at a disturbing rate that made Draco dizzy. When no indication as to how they could communicate in this made up language came he started to get really annoyed. Ultimately, he stamped his foot down into the dirt twice and said: "What the Hell is going on here?!"

Piper stared back at him as if he had gone mad, then she turned back to the stranger. "Eigo wo hanashimasu ka?" she seemed to ask him, and the man immediately began nodding his head vigorously. "Yes, yes," he said, and this Draco could understand.

He walked up to Piper. "Who the Hell is this? We don't have time for friendly conversations right now, after all you were the one who dragged us here so bloody come help us then!"

"Sorry," Piper said. Turned to the black-haired stranger, she said: "What is your name, sir?"

"Sakanoue Yousuke," the man replied. "And you are…?"

"Piper Malfoy, but I should probably say Malfoy Piper so you get my names in the correct order, right?"

To Draco's great irritation his sister and the stranger started to laugh. "What the bloody Hell is going on?" he demanded. "Piper, for fuck's sake! Explain yourself!"

Piper sighed. "This young man here is obviously Japanese, because he was cursing quite outspokenly in Japanese just a minute ago. Said things like 'bloody bastard' and 'sonofabitch'; you know how it goes better than anyone. So I asked him if he speaks English, and the rest you know."

Draco gaped. "You know Japanese? How can you know Japanese?"

The sister shrugged indifferently. "I took some classes some time back."

"Japanese courses? Why?"

"To impress you. I know you think I'm stupid and oblivious and all that, and I wanted to prove you wrong by learning something really difficult. I just wanted to show you that I can be smart, too."

Draco was moved that she would do such a thing for him. But shock still had the better of him. "Why did you go and choose Japanese? When are you ever going to get use for _that_?" He looked at the black-haired man. "I take that back. You are finding your language skills very useful right now. But still; why?"

"I made a list of all the things you would never even dream of doing, then I wrote them down on tiny pieces of paper and put them all in a hat. The piece of paper I drew out of the hat said 'Japanese studies', so… that's pretty much it. And you know what? I discovered it was actually rather easy."

"Marufou-san wa rikou datta," the Japanese bloke said with a friendly smile.

"Hai, hai!" Piper replied, and laughed.

"What?" Draco said.

"He said, 'Miss Malfoy was accomplished,' and I confirmed it," Piper explained. "So, tell me, Sakanoue-san, what are you doing here?"

He walked up to the shrubbery that Piper and Draco had left behind them, stopping next to Harry. "I am here to rescue someone."

"Oh. Are you a wiz—"

"Piper!" Draco hissed warningly and stepped on her foot. He gave her a murderous look.

"Ow!" She scowled at him. "I just thought that since he can see the castle—"

"_Shut up!_"

Sakanoue turned to look at Harry and gasped. "The scar!" he hissed with awe. "You must be Harry Potter! It is such an honour to finally meet you, Potter-san."

Harry looked stricken by shock when the energetic little Japanese man eagerly shook his hand. All he could think about was that this weird guy had pronounced his name 'Pottaa' instead of 'PottER'. "Er, nice to meet you, too, Saka… Saka… Sa… whatever your name was. Er, I take it you're a wizard, then...?"

"Hai, hai! One of best wizards in Japan at your service!"

"But what are you doing here, then?" Piper asked. "It's dangerous to walk around these grounds with Lord Pywercaseley invading Hogwarts and all…"

Sakanoue gave her a cold look. "That is why I have to go in. He has kidnap my sister, Magami. I know he keep her in that castle. I need to rescue."

Piper nodded solemnly. "Then we help."

She turned to Harry for a plan, which did not surprise Draco at all. Piper might be able to learn a foreign language, but she could not for the world think further than her stomach allowed. Turned out that Harry had already worked out a plan, and unfortunately Draco starred in the lead role. He had to put on a Death Eater cape that his sister provided - probably one of their father's old capes kept for sentimantal reasons, which totally made Draco sick - and hide his face beneath it. He and Harry would steal into the castle and try to stall Pywercaseley long enough for Piper and Sakanoue to collect his sister, whom was kept in the dungeons. They studied the Marauder's Map very carefully before working out their strategy. Piper and Sakanoue was to wait outside one of the hidden entrances to the castle until Harry and Draco had given them a sign that it was safe to enter. They agreed on a brief, half-dimmed light in one of the windows in the north tower.

Harry made a quick trip home to fetch his Invisibility Cloak so he could accompany Draco in the castle without being seen by the Death Eaters. Although Draco disliked the idea of playing a Death Eater, he had to agree with the others when they argued that he was the person best suited for the role. He could sound really intimidating when he wanted to, and he had an authentic authority that was indesputable. It was all thanks to his Malfoy genes.

As soon as Harry had swept the cloak around himself, they took off towards the castle. Draco's stomach was turning inside out with nervousness and anxiety. He had a bad feeling about this, but he did not know if it was justified or if it simply was a result of his recurring nightmares and jittery nerves. The Dark Lord had been thorough and placed six guards outside the main doors; they had decided that it was best to approach their adversaries directly instead of trying to sneak up on them. Better to be bold than yellow-bellied. Draco walked straight up to the stairs with his usual self-confident stride, and feigned insult when he was stopped by two of the guards. "What do you mean by stopping me like this?" he belched furiously. "Can't you see I am bloody one of you!"

The two Death Eaters seemed to relax a bit, but they did not let him pass. On the inside, Draco was swallowing hard, and he felt cold trickles of sweat run down his back. The taller of the guards said: "I'm sorry, but I can't let you pass. Boss's order."

Draco made an attempt to launch himself at them. "You ungrateful, dirty, arselicking prats! I will give you for boss's order! Is that any way to treat your superior! I have been bloody standing on guard – _ME!_ – for two freaking hours and nearly frozen my arse off – AND WHEN I WANT TO GET BACK INSIDE TO WARM MYSELF YOU WON'T EVEN LET ME PASS THROUGH THE BLOODY DOOR! Move the Hell out of my way and don't you dare bloody touch me, you sorry imbeciles!" He was really playing a hazardous game now, because he could not possibly know how they would react to him claiming to be their superior, he just allowed himself to go with the flow and make things up as he went. In a weird sort of way, it felt incredibly good to be yelling such impolite insults straight to their faces.

The two Death Eaters backed away a few steps. "I am so sorry, Gumble, I didn't know it was you," the tall one said and almost bowed before him. "I'll let you through now, sir, I'm awfully sorry for the inconvenience." They stepped away from the door.

Draco was momentarily paralysed by astonishment. They really _had_ one of their superiors out on watch tonight? He swiftly shook himself out of his state of shock. "You bet you will!" he said, trying his best to keep up his act. "I will be sure to report this to the Dark Lord himself as soon as I see him, and it will not be pleasant!" With those words, he stalked past the two dazed Death Eaters and hoped to Merlin that Harry was following on his tail. As soon as he was inside the castle and the big doors had been shut behind him he looked around him, desperately trying to detect a flutter of the oily fabric of Harry's cloak or something that would indicate if his lover was there or not. Making sure that no-one was in sight, he dared to whisper: "Harry? Are you there?"

"Yes," came the raven-haired boy's voice from his left side, so close that he jumped in fright.

"Fuck, you scared me," he whispered back.

"We shouldn't be talking right now. Just do as planned and walk straight up to Pywercaseley's lair in Dumbledore's office."

"Okay. But how do I get in?"

"I know the password."

"You do?"

"Can't be anything else. 'I hate Weasleys.' Percy's nurtured his hatred for his family for quite some time now, and I think he'd be stupid enough to use that as a password. Easy for the other Death Eaters to remember, too."

"I hope you're right." Draco started towards the stairs. "You'll be there with me, won't you?"

"All the way, baby. I got your back."

Draco met many Death Eaters standing on guard on his way up to the Headmaster's tower office, and it unnerved him that they were so many. He had a great difficulty getting the privacy that he needed to send the signal to Piper and Japanese Dude. How were they ever going to get out of there alive? Not only did they have the odds against them because they were outnumbered, but they had another crucial weakness; Draco's pregnancy. Pywercaseley and his weasels must know about that because of the bloody papers, and if they got to the child growing inside of him... it might be the end of him and Harry.

Standing by the stone statue outside the Headmaster's office, Draco drew a deep breath and said: "I hate Weasleys." He had not expected anything to happen, so when the statue slipped aside and revealed the moving staircase he almost screamed. Quickly, he stepped onto the top of the stairs and allowed himself to be moved right up to the top. There were guards outside the door to the office, too, but they willingly stepped aside when Draco told them he was Gumble, and he was able to walk into Lord Pywercaseley's midst without him even knowing it. He stood by the desk, looking out of the windows with his back to Draco, but he turned around the moment he heard the door open and close. "Who are you and how dare you disturb me?" he hissed intimidatingly.

Draco simply snorted and went straight up to him, circling him like a wild predator. "You really don't have any time for your sidekicks, do you, Pywercaseley? Maybe you should show them a little more appreciation and they'd be a little more loyal to you. Maybe then they wouldn't let someone like me into your very bedroom," he said provokingly.

The Dark Lord did not like that commentary. His eyes narrowed into thin slits. "Who are you?" he repeated impatiently.

When Draco was in the position that he and Harry had agreed upon he pulled the hood of the cloak up and revealed his face. He took enormous pleasure in the unmistakably horrified gasp that escaped Pywercaseley. He surely had not forgotten what had happened the last time he stumbled across the blonde. "You...!"

Draco sneered. "Yes, it's me all right. Whatcha going to do about it?"

A cold rage sprang up in Pywercaseley's face. "You wouldn't want to know, Malfoy. I can fuck you up so bad you won't even recognise yourself in the mirror, and I can do it only by a light twitch of my hand."

"Really? I'm not impressed. I know loads of people who can do better," Draco yawned.

"So you dare to challenge me? That is foolish, even for you. You think you can win over me? Think you can eliminate me from the face of the earth like you eliminated He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and your parents?"

"Come on, you know it was a little bit more than that. Sixty-seven Death Eaters, taken out with four shots. And I must say I'm surprised that you of all people are afraid of speaking his name, even this long after his death." Oh, how he loved teasing that fake Dark Lord, because he saw something that the Lord did not: Harry had removed his Invisibility Cloak and taken out his wand.

Pywercaseley laughed. "You think that will intimidate me? Make me whimper and beg for mercy? Come on, you don't even have me at a clear shot. You don't even have a wand!"

Draco gave him a dark smile. "No, but he does."

Pywercaseley knitted his brows and slowly began to turn around to see who Draco was talking about. All of a sudden everything happened so fast. Harry uttered the death curse and the green light hit the Dark Lord in the chest and sent him flying through the air in an odd dance, and in the same second the door to the office opened and the Death Eater guards outside stepped into the circular room, and they saw Harry curse Pywercaseley, so they raised their own wands and directed the very same curse at Harry. One of them missed, but the other hit him in the small of his back. He fell forward on his hands and knees, but this time he did not even lose consciousness, did not even stay down for a fraction of a second, but instantly got back up and directed a few minor jinxes and hexes at the Death Eaters inside the door. Fury was written all over his face. "Oh, give it a rest!" he was shouting, beside himself with wrath. "This is the third time in two bloody years, don't you ever tire?! It _hurts_, for fuck's sake! Can't I go _anywhere_ without being cursed nowadays!?" He hit the Death Eaters with a few jinxes more. Draco simply stared at him in shocked silence. Harry kicked the Death Eaters' shins. "Leave me the Hell alone!"

They both stared at him with a mixture of fright and awe in their dark, beedy eyes. One of them actually managed to speak, which impressed Draco a little. "You... you didn't die..."

Harry kicked them again. "No, because I'm the bloody boy who lived bloody three times! You think I'm gonna die the bloody fourth time?! Are you stupid, or what?"

To their utter surprise, both the Death Eaters bowed before Harry. It threw Harry off his horse, and he stopped dead with his foot halfway to the smaller of them. "What the fuck are you doing?" he asked them as if they were his friends trying to pull a prank on him.

"Harry Potter, you succeeded both to assassinate our boss and to survive the death curse, and that means you're mightier than every other wizard on this planet. You must accept our offer to make you our new Dark Lord," the fatter of them said, and the little guy nodded in consent.

That was not exactly what Harry had hoped for – if he indeed had hoped for anything at all... Certainly not what Draco had expected. And when he finally understood what their offer would mean, he looked at Harry. To give his lover support, he said: "Love to search for that scar later."

Harry laughed. He turned to the Death Eaters. "You don't actually think that I would become the Dark Lord of my own volition, do you? You'll have to kill me before that happens, and seeing as you've already failed four times I don't see much of a threat in that." He turned to the blonde. "Draco, would you please put that cloak back on? You'll need it when we get out."

Draco peered at the two men before them. "What about them?"

Harry shrugged. "I guess we'll knock them out and just leave them here."

"No!" the fat Death Eater exclaimed. "We cannot let you leave until you have agreed to be our leader."

"Then I guess we'll have to fight our way out," Harry said somberly. He made to walk past them with his wand raised in front of him, but he was not ready when they launched themselves at him, and Draco could not stand just watching his lover being battered and beaten and cursed any longer; he swallowed hard and pulled out his own wand. Shaking with repentance, he yelled: "A-a-avada Kadavra!" The round of green light went straight through the first Death Eater, leaving a hole as big as an apple in his abdomen, and hit the second one low in the chest. They fell like dominoes. Harry looked up at him, panting. His green eyes were clouded by pain and fear. Something broke inside Draco at that moment; he hated seeing Harry like that, and it happened more often now than it had before. It was the same kind of look he had had when Sirius died, after the events in the Department of Mysteries... the same kind of look Draco imagined he must have had after watching Cedric die... that same look that always came back to him when he was overcome by the tragedies of his life. And it went all the way back to the night Voldemort had killed his parents. Draco wished he could do something to ease that pain...

"Thank you," Harry said. "We better get out of here before any more dickheads show up and find out if Piper and Sacky succeeded to rescue his sister."

Draco still felt the pain in Harry's heart pouring into his body, forming a hard lump in his throat, making his eyes water. Yet he nodded firmly and hid his face beneath the Death Eater cloak once more. Harry swept his Invisibility Cloak around himself, and they ran out together. It was difficult to walk past all the guards stationed in various corners of the castle without running in panic, difficult to act as if nothing at all had happened in the Headmasters office, difficult to greet the Death Eaters as if they were in fact his mates. But he did it. He did it for Harry. For their family. Were they ever to have a quiet life together, just him and Harry and the babies, they had to keep their heads down and stay out of the Death Eaters' business. It just unnerved him the way those two thugs had immediately embraced Harry as their new leader merely because they failed to kill him... What if they came after them? What if they refused to relent their efforts until he had agreed to lead them?

They met up with Piper and the Japanese guy where they had last left them, and they had someone with them which meant their plan had worked. "Kanojo wa watashi no imouto desu," the Japanese bloke said to them when they joined them.

Draco raised his eyebrows in utter bewilderment. "Excuse me?"

Piper put an arm around his shoulders. "He said: 'This is my younger sister.' She doesn't know any English at all, so he must speak Japanese in order for her to understand. I will be your interpretor."

Draco squirmed in her grip. "Why do I have the feeling that I can't trust you to translate my words correctly?" he asked her.

Obviously, the three of them had been in such a hurry to get out of the castle unnoticed that they had had no time for introductions, because Piper turned to the young woman, bowed, and said: "Hajimemashite. Watashi wa Marufou Paipaa to moushimasu."

The young Japanese girl smiled appreciatively, and replied: "Hajimemashite. Sakanoue Magami to moushimasu."

Piper turned to Draco and Harry. "I said: 'We meet for the first time. My name is Piper Malfoy.' It is tradition in their country to greet people in this fashion when you first meet them. Then she replied by saying the same thing, except 'My name is Magami Sakanoue' instead of 'Piper'. Now I will introduce you." She turned back to Magami without waiting for her brother's reaction. She pointed at Draco. "Kare wa watashi no otouto desu, Marufou Doreeko to moushimasu. Kare wa nihongo o hanasanai." Furthermore, she went on by pointing at Harry. "Kare wa Potaa Harii to moushimasu. Doreeko no koibito desu."

Magami's eyes widened with astonishment. "Koibito ka? Honto ni koibito ka? Potaa Harii-sama no... otoko no... koibito de gozaimasu ka?" she asked, staring at Harry in bafflement.

Piper bowed slightly. "Hai. Karetachi wa karetachi o aishite imasu," she informed her.

Magami looked as if she was ready to continue the conversation, but Draco interrupted her, he did not care if it was percieved as impolite according to her traditon. He grabbed his sister and forced her to look at him. "Hey! Sorry to barge in on your friendly chat like this, but could we please return to the interpretation now?!"

Piper blinked. "Of course. Certainly. I just thought it was fun to actually be speaking to someone in Japanese for a change. Sorry. Let's see now... I introduced you guys. 'He's my younger brother, Draco Malfoy. He doesn't speak Japanese. He's Harry Potter, Draco's lover.' And then she said: 'Lover? Is he really his lover? The honourable Mr. Harry Potter's MALE lover?' And I said: 'Yes. They love each other.' And that's all."

"Oh. Great. Thanks."

Harry anxiously surveyed the area. "Hate to break it up or anything, but we had better go home before they discover we've killed the Dark Lord," he said nervously.

Piper and Sacky stared at him, both completely taken aback. "You what?"

"Not here, we'll talk about it at home. Now, Piper, would you please take us out of here?"

A month went by without any interruptions of their daily life. James stayed in the house, and it was a real joy having the boy around. He had begun to speak coherently and cleverly distinguished between his both fathers by calling Harry 'Dada' and Draco 'Daddy.' The baby inside Draco grew, and he went on his first ultrasound at St. Mungo's the 13th of July. Harry was there by his side, even though men were not allowed in the maternity ward, and he held Draco's shaking hand when their baby appeared on the little screen and the midwife pointed out the tiny little beating heart to them. Draco cried that day. It was so beautiful. That visit was so different from his first, when he had yelled at everyone present and completely humiliated himself; this time he sat down in the waiting room and excitedly chatted with the women there. Harry was very surprised to see him discuss all the pros and cons of pregnancy with those strange women, because he had never heard Draco mention words like 'nipples', 'peeing', 'heartburn', and 'vomiting' in the presence of others before. He could say them to Harry, yes, but when it came to other people Draco was very careful to make himself sound as flawless and perfect as possible, and he always kept things like that private.

Something was happening in the Malfoy house, and it had nothing to do with Draco's pregnancy. No, this concerned Piper and her new friend. They had agreed to call him Joe since both Draco and Harry found it impossible to pronounce his name correctly. Harry recalled one occasion when Draco had tried his best to make it sound like 'Yousuke', but totally failed. All he had managed was this: "You know, Yusacky, I was wondering... could you babysit James for us tonight? Harry and I are going out, and Piper's going to be away in work. He likes you."

Yousuke had lightened up like a light bulb in a deep, windowless cellar. "Certainly!" he said happily, and Harry had laughed on the inside at the fact that he pronounced it "Saatanrii!"

Draco prepared to leave the room. "Great, Yusacky. Thanks."

"Yousuke."

"Huh?"

"My name is Yousuke, Draco-san."

"Oh, sorry. Yosucky, then."

"Yousuke."

"Yosackey?"

"No, Yousuke. Yo-wo-su-ke."

"You-oh-suck-ey?" Draco asked in confusion.

So after that they pretty much decided that it was better for them to make up an English nickname for him, and they agreed on Joe.

They did not notice the change that was taking place between Piper and Joe at first, not for a long time actually, but eventually it became very obvious that there was something... different about them. They were all sitting in the parlour one day; Harry was reading the Prophet interestedly and Draco was lazily lying on his back on one of the couches, propped up by several small soft cushions, watching Piper and Joe, whom were momentarily enjoying a wild discussion in Japanese. Draco listened almost fascinatedly to the weird words that meant nothing whatsoever to him. Then, out of the blue, he said: "Are you seeing what I'm seeing?"

Harry looked up to see if he was speaking to him. Then he glanced at the others. "No, what?"

"Look closer," Draco instructed. "Don't they remind you of someone?"

Harry looked again. And they did in fact remind him of something. What came to mind was that night in their fifth year at Hogwarts during which they had stopped practising Defense Against the Dark Arts altogether and just fooled around, talking and laughing and teasing each other until they were so tired they both fell down on the huge cushions on the floor. That was the night they shared their first kiss. Suddenly Harry understood where Draco was going. "No... you don't think they..."

"Yeah, I do. Looks like the first signs of love to me."

"I know, but Piper – love?"

Draco laughed. "Yeah, I totally know what you mean. She's not the love type."

"No, she's more into torture!"

They laughed again. Although they were all in the same room, and Piper and her boyfriend-to-be were just seven feet from them, neither of them heard a word of the boys' conversation. Piper just laughed and said something that sounded like "Home to Vienna coat none done!" and Draco did not get it at all. He shook his head and patted the vacant space beside him on the couch. "Come here!" he said to Harry.

Harry instantly got up from his armchair and lay down beside Draco on the couch. Draco closed his eyes with a pleased, happy smile on his face and put his arms around Harry in a tender embrace. "Mmmm, I could lie like this forever..." he murmured against Harry's cheek.

Harry patted the blonde's stomach. "I could too, baby. I could too."

Joe gave Piper a flower.

The third month went by rather quickly, and the media still was not camping outside their doors to get the latest bit of news steaming hot and fresh; they always sent owl post first to ask their permission before they did a piece on them. Obviously people in the magical society had great respect for both the boy who had survived Voldemort and the boy who had killed him. They never wrote a word about James, which both Harry and Draco appreciated a lot. And that was quite fortunate, for there were many people who could never know that James disappeared from the Manor on a regular basis. Only sixteen months old he already spent more time away from home than at home. And now he was gone again. Harry and Draco had learnt that he came back sooner or later, and if he ever were in danger they would receive a message with a clue as to where he was.  
That was what happened that day.  
Harry was going out to the kitchen to fetch a drink when he noticed the message on the refrigerator. A few months back they had bought a couple boxes of refrigerator poetry to amuse James with, and normally there would be a hundred different statements there, such as "Daddy is great" and "Give me milk or die", but not today. All the original sentences had been scratched away and replaced by one single clue. Harry instantly knew that it must be about James.

disappeared boy saint mango  
class reunion

a blond

A blond? A blond what? Or maybe it was not a blond SOMETHING but a blond SOMEONE, and if that was the case, could it be a particular blonde? Harry jerked involuntarily when he realised who it must be. The blond boy. The mysterious boy who repeatedly showed up when things were getting ugly, who did everything at 'her' beck and call. But he had never told Harry who 'she' was. This time 'she' had apparently instructed him to leave the message without beeing seen. But what did it mean? 'Disappeared boy', that was James, that one was easy, but 'saint' and 'mango' did not seem to have any meaning at all at first. What if it's replacements for other words he didn't find amongst those available to him? Harry thought and began to try to figure out what the blonde might have meant. Then it hit him. Saint. St. And the mango was... Mungo. James was at St. Mungo's.

Harry took his cloak and left right away. He did not have to search long before he had found the boy. He was playing with the toys in the waiting room outside the children's ward. Harry gave him a smile and bent down to pick him up. "There you are, you little mischiefmaker," he said. "Having fun, are you?"

James smiled happily. "Dada! Cars go zoom!"

"Yes, cars go zoom. Is that your car there? No, it's the hospital's car. We'll leave it here in case some other kid wants to play with it."

"Harry?"

Harry froze. That voice. He recognised it, it was very familiar, yet... No, could it really be...?

He slowly turned around. A young woman was looking at him with a slight frown on her face, looking rather insecure. But when she saw the scar on his forehead she recognised him right away. "It _is_ you, Harry! Imagine seeing you _here_ of all places!"

Harry stiffened. She was like the last person he ever wanted to see again. He cleared his throat. "Cho. Nice to see you again."

She went straight up to him and began to play with James. "Is this boy your son? He's been playing here all day, I thought he'd been abandoned. Where were you? Why didn't you come pick him up?"

"Because I didn't know where he was," Harry said. "He likes to disappear sometimes. Drives us mad half of the time."

She gave him a meaning look. "So you finally met someone special, then?" she stated. "I'm glad you regained your senses and realised that your relationship with that _Malfoy_ couldn't be of any good. So, tell me everything. Is she nice, your girlfriend? Or are you even married, perhaps? And when did you decide you wanted to have children? It seems so... unlike you the way you were when I knew you."

"Funny thing to say, because I'm of the opinion that you didn't know me at all," Harry pointed out harshly.

For a brief moment, Cho seemed hurt by his comment, but she recovered quickly. "I'm working here now, love children. Got off at four today, but I stayed behind to keep this little chap company. I'd love to meet your wife, Harry. Would it be too much of an intrusion if I came along with you?"

Suddenly Harry had an idea. "No, sure, why not?" he said. "I'd love for you to meet my... partner in life. I bet it'll be a nice reunion."

Her smile broadened. "Reunion? So it's someone I know, then? Oh, don't tell me it's Hermione! Ron'd get really devastated."

"He already is. Haven't you heard? Hermione was murdered two years ago."

Cho was silent for a long while. "Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't know. Must've been hard on you. She was your best friend."

"Until she betrayed me, yes. But that's all in the past. A lot has happened since we graduated from Hogwarts. Now, do you want to meet the love of my life or not? I have to get back or I'll get a nasty ranting." Harry reached out his hand to her. Cho nodded and took a careful grip of his hand, and then they were off. They Apparated in the dining room, because Harry knew that Draco would be preparing dinner by this time. "Honey, I'm home!" he called for Cho's sake. The thing about imminent dinner had probably been a correct guess, because Joe was just about to set the table. He spent a lot of time in the Malfoy Manor since he had started dating Piper, but he was a true gentleman and never stayed past bedtime. He always brought gifts for Piper when he came to visit or to pick her up for one of their many dates at restaurants and movie theatres and suchlike. "Hey there, Joe," Harry greeted the Japanese, "how's it going? Getting everything set up for dinner, are you?"

Joe instantly turned around and bowed curteously when he heard Harry's voice. "Welcome home, Harry-san. I hope you had pleasant journey. Ah, I see you brought guest back. Maybe I should set other place for table, then?"

"Yes, please do," Harry said, and feeling rather stupid he bowed back. He gave Cho an inquiring look. "You are staying for dinner, right?" he asked.

She laughed somewhat nervously. "Sure. Why not? So, where is this mystery lady?" She surveyed the big dining room. "Boy, you really live luxuriously, Harry. You married royalty or something?"

Harry noticed that Joe was about to answer, but gave him an urgent gesture and said the only couple words that he had learnt in Japanese so far. "Seishuku. Joodan wa." Silence. Joke. Harry knew that those words also could mean "Silence, this is a joke."

Joe smiled appreciatively. "Ah. Ii shita. Well done, Harry-san. You pronounced words correctly. You better than koibito-sama." He probably used the word 'koibito' for Draco not to spoil Harry's joke, and he silently thanked the Japanese for it. Draco and him would have a good laugh when Cho saw him walk through the arc from the kitchen. Speaking of which... "Honey, would you please come out here for a minute? There's someone here I'd like you to meet. Joodan wa!" The only word Draco understood.

Cho was impressed. "You know Japanese, Harry?"

"Oh, well, just a word or two..."

"How impressive. Wish I knew my home tongue better, but I was never any good at it so I stopped trying to learn. They say Chinese and Japanese are rather similar languages."

"That is myth," Joe said. "Japanese took Chinese signs and created own pronunciations for them, and we also created two own alphabets of mora to make language easier. For verb conjugation and what is not." After sharing that piece of information with them, he returned to his chores.

Draco emerged from the kitchen, wearing emerald green cotton trousers and a plain, tight white T-shirt, this time not even bothering to hide the fact that he was swiftly getting fatter, holding a cloth in his left hand, and his shoulder length blond hair was tousled after a long day of chores and another maternity ward appointment. They wanted to check up on him more often than they did on normal mothers since he was a man and things easily could go wrong. He gave Harry an inquiring and somewhat stressed look. "What's with the 'Honey'? You've never called me that before. What happened to 'Baby' or just plain 'Dracums'?" he asked with suspicion. Then he noticed Cho standing beside and slightly behind Harry. "Er, hello. Harry, why didn't you tell me we were having a guest over? I would have made more for dinner... and maybe dessert."

Harry smiled amusedly at the sight of the cloth in Draco's hand. "What's with the cleaning equipment?" he asked. "You starting to use your hands now, Dracums?"

The mocking tone went straight past Draco. "See, there you have the 'Dracums' again! What's with 'Honey'? And who's she?" He indicated his cloth. "I'm busy, I was just about to hex this into cleaning the kitchen counters for me. Would you please tell me what's going on now?"

Cho took a trembling step towards the blonde, her face pale with shock and disbelief. "No...," she whispered, "...it can't be..."

Draco knitted his brows. "What? You've never seen a man clean before?"

Harry went over to him and gave him a tender kiss. Draco shut his eyes with euphoria for a second. "Hey baby," Harry said, properly greeting his lover this time. "Rough day?"

"Oh, not so much. You find James? I saw the message on the fridge. Joseph was here earlier, wasn't he? Why doesn't he ever show himself to me? I'm supposed to be his father, aren't I? I think it's bloody impolite of him to avoid me like this."

Harry went down on his knees and kissed Draco's stomach and made the blonde giggle girlishly. "I bet he had his reasons," he murmured; kissed Draco's bellybutton anew. "Don't you, Joseph? You just want to tease your Daddy, don't you?"

During this display of love and affection, Cho stood silent in the middle of the floor, her entire body shivering visibly. When Harry rose from the floor and faced her she looked at him with puzzlement, fright, and lack of understanding. She saw the unmistakable bump on Draco's stomach. With her voice trembling, she said, "Draco, you're... pregnant."

The blonde raised one eyebrow. "Er, duh... everyone knows that."

Harry laughed bitterly. "Boy, you really don't read the papers, do you?"

Cho gave him a confused look. "The papers? I don't understand…"

"It's been all over the papers for the past three months," Harry went on, "everyone knows about us. 'The Boy Who Lived Thrice', 'The Boy Who's Pregnant', 'The Boy Who's Carrying the Child of the Boy Who Lived', 'The Boy Who Killed the Dark Lord'... Have you really not heard about that?"

Cho feverishly shook her head.

Draco turned to Harry again. "Who is she? What is she doing here?"

"Believe it or not, but this is Cho Chang."

The blonde was silent for a long while. His expression changed from confused and somewhat irritated to hurt and disappointed. Then he turned on his heels and walked out of the room. On his way out, he said: "I don't believe you, Harry."

Harry's heart skipped a beat. What had just happened? "Dracums!" With a deep sigh he realised that he had done something stupid – as always. Without looking at Cho, he told her to leave. "This is a bad time, we'll have to take a reincheck on that dinner." He went after Draco, and found the blonde sitting bent over the round kitchen table, shaking with heartbreaking sobs. Harry hurried up to him, kneeled beside him and comfortingly put his arm around his back. "Dracums, what's wrong? What did I do? What did I say? Dracums..."

The blonde's crying saddened him. It was such wretched crying...

"You... you have the nerve to... to bring your... your ex girlfriend here... and you ask me what you've done? You ask me what you've done? Bastard..." He convulsed with another fit of violent sobbing.

Harry jerked. Oh no... "But, Dracums, Cho isn't my ex girlfriend..."

Draco swirled around to face him, his eyes red with tears, his flushed face wet. "No? No? Then explain to me why you chose HER for your sweetheart at Valentine's Day! Huh? You don't have any smart remark to that, Harry? You're a bloody cheater, you are... bastard..."

Harry forced him into his arms, and he reluctantly leaned against his shoulder. "I'm sorry, Dracums, I never meant to hurt you... I just ran into her at St. Mungo's when I was there picking up James. Turns out she's working there now. It was a pure coincidence, Dracums, I promise. And about her being my Valentine... that was five years ago. I was insecure, I was changing... lots of things were changing inside of me that I couldn't control. Hormones, I guess. She stayed behind after one of my Defense Against the Dark Arts classes, one of the last we had... it was right before Christmas, and there was a mistletoe in there... She kissed me and I didn't know what I was supposed to do. I felt really stupid and nervous... and there was this other feeling that I didn't understand at all. I only understood it much later, when I... I was going to say 'when I met you', but that wouldn't be the right choice of words since I had already met you, but when I GOT TO KNOW you. I was trying so hard to fit into the stereotypes that people have about love, I was trying so hard to be like everyone else and make someone respect and appreciate me just the way I was that I couldn't see the obvious. And that was that I had already chosen my sweetheart. I chose you, Draco. I chose you long before I actually realised that I had fallen for you, long before we even got to speaking terms and first-name-basis. Later I realised that I had been watching you for several months, maybe even as early as our fourth year, and I had sort of taken a perverse pleasure in every insulting and threatening word you said to me. Even though you called me all sorts of things, I loved every word of it. Because I loved you. I was never interested in Cho, I was merely trying to do what everyone else was expecting me to do because Harry Potter couldn't go against the crowd and announce that he was gay. Do you understand what I'm telling you? Eventually, of course, I realised that I couldn't fool myself any longer. That night in the secret room in the dungeons totally changed me, and I still consider it to be the best night of my life, because that's the night you became mine. That's the night you kissed me and told me you were falling for me. That's when I realised I had loved you without even knowing it. Every day I thank you for making me realise all that, because my life would be meaningless without you and the babies. You're my family, I love you, and I wouldn't trade you for anything."

Draco had stopped sobbing when he reached the part about him choosing the blonde above everyone else, and when Harry talked about that special night in the dungeons the blonde clasped his hands around the fabric of Harry's dark blue jumper. Now he buried his face deep in Harry's jumper and breathed his lover's scents. "Do you mean that, Harry? You chose me over Cho?"

Harry laughed and kissed the top of Draco's head. "I chose you way before Cho forced me to ask her for that horrible date. I asked her just because she looked so hurt that I _didn't_ ask her, and I regret it to this day. _That_ was the _worst_ day of my life!"

They laughed and just sat there for a while, holding each other, choosing each other.

The following morning Draco was in a splendid mood, so Piper embraced the moment and asked him if it was okay that she practice a few spells while they had breakfast. "Sure," Draco said, and he only had eyes for Harry. Boy, those two had been at it all night. She could not for her life understand where they found all the energy for their non-stop love-making! Delighted, she fetched her wand and started to try a few of her most recently written spells. She had gone three whole months without the training she needed and was now eager to catch up. "Just no explosions," Draco added as an afterthought. "One explosion and you're out of here, you hear me?"

"Yeah, yeah, I hear you." She was not worried. He did not throw her out when she made him pregnant, so... Besides, she never made any mistakes intentionally... "Wabbafunktany!" she said firmly and made swisching movements with her wand. The spell was supposed to conjure up a vase of flowers, but instead it created a glowing white ball of light with a diametre of 8 inches. She watched it with fascination. It was beautiful. Next moment it began to glow a bright orange-red, and it began to shake with huge amounts of energy, and suddenly it exploded. A circle of energy went our from the nucleus of the light ball and enveloped Harry and Draco. They flew out of their chairs with two loud BANG!s. Terrified of getting hit herself, Piper shot out of her chair, but that had been an unnecessary reaction because the moment the energy wave had left the ball it imploded and sucked in the air around it, like the vacuum that was created inside a black hole.

Harry shot up from the floor and pointed an accusing finger at her. "What the Hell was that!?" he shouted, his face red with anger. "I told you – _NO EXPLOSIONS_! Now look what you've done, you bloody imbecile for a bloody sister, you almost blew the whole table up! Do you wish to be thrown out of here into the street? What do you think your boyfriend's gonna think about that? You really think a Japanese gentleman like that is going to date a fucking bum?! And don't give me that look! I told you I was gonna throw you out if you broke my rules, and I don't want you in my bloody house anymore so just get the Hell out of here before I seriously hurt you!"

Piper stared at him in shock. "Harry, calm down, it really wasn't that bad, my spell just went a little wrong..."

"Why are you calling me—"

"Man, that was weird!" Draco hauled himself off the floor and supported himself on the edge of the table. "What happened?"

Piper frowned. Why was not he angry with her?

Harry grabbed her right arm. "What the fuck are you still standing around for?! I told you to get the bloody Hell out of here! Are you deaf or are you just too fucking stupid to understand a simple order!?"

Draco shook his head gently. "Uuuh, I feel weird..." He bent forward and put a hand to his stomach. Suddenly his grey eyes widened with fear. "What?" he whispered. "I'm... I'm... _fat_?" He was shaking bad, trying to make himself look down at his stomach, but could not.

Piper looked from Harry to Draco and back. "You guys are really confusing me. Stop that act right now, you're scaring me."

"What do you mean _we're_ scaring _you?_!" Harry hissed threateningly. "YOU ARE THE ONE WHO BLOODY SHOT US WITH A BLOODY FLASH OF LIGHTNING!"

Piper was on the verge of tears. "Stop it, Harry. You've never talked to me like that before, you're hurting me... Why are you acting like Draco?"

On the other side of the table, Draco gave a shriek of surprised fright. "I'm fat! I'm fat! Look at me, I'm fat! Why the Hell am I fat?!"

Then it was as if Harry received some sort of weird insight, because a dark shadow travelled over the surfaces of his emerald eyes. He put his hands on his stomach and gasped. "My baby..." Only then did they turn to look at each other, and Piper watched the show with growing bewilderment. Harry put his hands down on the table surface and bent forward to have a closer look at Draco, and Draco stared back at him with wide-open eyes. "Why do you look like me?" they both yelled, and gasped anew. "You're me!" Harry said.

"And you're me!" Draco exclaimed.

Finally Piper was starting to understand the situation. "Oops...," she said. "Seems like I did some sort of personality change spell..."

They both turned to her with fury-black eyes and yelled: "_What?_"

"I think your souls have changed bodies somehow. When that light energy hit you Draco's soul went into Harry's body and Harry's soul went into Draco's body. Wow! That is _so _cool!" She laughed and clapped her hands together like a small child.

"I'm not pregnant!" Draco yelled in Harry's body.

"I'm pregnant?" Harry yelled in Draco's body.

The dispair on their faces perfectly matched each other.

"Yes, isn't it cool?" Piper said, beside herself with excitement.

Draco – no, _Harry_ – made a grimace. "I think I'm gonna be sick..." He ran to the bathroom, holding his stomach as if he expected the baby to emerge from it any second.

Harry – no, _Draco_ – numbly sank down into a chair. "This is insane. This is completely insane."

Piper patted his head. "It'll be all right," she promised. "You'll figure this out in no time. Man, the tables have really turned now!"

Her girlish laughter was the last thing Draco heard before he fainted.

* * *

(To be continued...)

"Boku o michibiku kasuka-na shiruetto..."

* * *

About Piper's little exclamation in Japanese... Draco thinks she says "Home to Vienna coat none done!" and doesn't get it, but she in fact says "Honto ni hen-na koto na no da!", which means "That's some really strange stuff!"

Please R&R!! ;)


	31. And so the tables were turned, part 5

**Rating:** PG-17/mpreg

**Pairing:** H/D

**Disclaimer:** All characters belong to J.K. Rowling, except for my creations, which are the following: Piper, Tom, James, "Joseph", the mystery teens, the Forgettes, Yousuke Sakanoue.

**Disclaimer II:** The nickname "Dracums" belongs to Golden.

**Author's note:** The story is taking a new dark twist, so be prepared.

* * *

**And so the tables were turned... (5)**

"Harry, are you all right in there? You've been in there forever. Can't you come out instead so we can talk this through? You're scaring me when you're this quiet. Harry?"

"Shut up!"

"Wow! He's really getting a hang on being you, Draco."

"Piper, shut up and go somewhere else, will you? This is between me and Harry. I'm letting you stay for now, but only until you've found a countercurse for this, okay? Go make us some tea or something, it's always been good for me when I've been feeling queasy."

Piper saluted him, and said, "Aye-aye, Captain! Yes, sir, will do, sir!"

He hit her on the arm to make her go away. Then he turned to the bathroom door again. "Harry, Piper's gone now so it's okay for you to tell me how you feel now," he cooed.

"Shut up!" Harry called from inside the locked bathroom. "I don't want to hear myself asking me how I am!"

"But it's not you asking – it's me," Draco protested in lack of understanding.

"Oh, you know what I mean! You sound like me! You look like me! Hell... you _are_ me. I don't like it, it scares the shit out of me."

Draco was silent for a long time. "I understand, Harry. It scares the shit out of me, too, but now it's already been done. We can't change it. At least not yet. So I guess we'll have to figure out a way to cope with this – being each other, I mean. Hell, Harry just come out of there. You're the smart one, I need you to work this out for me, I can't bloody think without you. One would think that I would have your brains now, but you obviously brought them along for your vacation in my body."

Harry laughed inside the bathroom. A smile formed on Draco's lips. He finally seemed to have managed to break the ice between them. He no longer thought his lover would mind if he unlocked the door magically, so he took out his wand, and said, "Alohomora."

He was sitting on top of the toilet seat, bent forward with his elbows supported on his knees, his face in his hands – but it was _Draco's_ face. It was as if he was seeing himself sitting there, not Harry. He only hesitated for a second or two before he crossed the doorway and walked up to his lover. Harry looked up at him as he approach. "Boy, is this a nightmare," he said with a faint smile.

Draco kneeled in front of him and put his hands on Harry's hips. He was shaking as he did so, because he felt as if he was touching _himself_ on the hips, and that was perverted, depraved, morbid! Absurd like nothing else. Yet, it was happening. He shut his eyes and took a deep breath, conjuring an image of his beloved Harry in his mind's eye for comfort and strength. When he felt energized by his boyfriend's love again, he opened his eyes. It didn't scare him that he was looking at his own face anymore; he was utterly calm. And then something miraculous happened. For a moment he could actually see Harry sitting there, his face flushed with queasiness and his forehead covered with small beads of sweat. The vision faded after only a few seconds, but Draco knew what he had seen. Harry's soul. It made it much easier for him to know his lover was actually in there somewhere when he was going to play the part as mediator between them. "How are you feeling?" he asked affecionately, because he knew that Harry would need every sign of love that Draco could give; being pregnant was no easy task.

Harry grimaced. "I've been better. Tell me... does the queasiness ever pass?"

Draco laughed. "Yes, it does. It's worst during the first months, but then it gets better. You just need to learn what to eat and when, that's all."

Harry snorted. "You make it sound so easy, but I feel awful... I feel insecure, fat, ugly, sweaty, and bloated..." He sighed and buried his face in his hands anew.

Draco gently caressed the side of his face to show him that he did not find it repulsive. "Welcome to my world," he said bitterly. "This is how I've been feeling for the past month. But it's wonderful at the same time – you'll see."

Harry moaned. "Uuugh, don't say that! You make it sound as if we're never going to switch back!"

"Well, that all depends on Piper, and bearing her past spell experiments in mind I'd say we're in for a Hell of a long switch. You have to prepare yourself physically and mentally in case you're the one giving birth this time."

When Draco had finally managed to coo Harry out of the bathroom, the new blonde muttered something like "Your sister better find a cure for this quick, because I'm about to kill her or worse," which amused Draco immensely. It was amazing how switching bodies could automatically encourage them to switch personalities, too. Maybe this was not so bad, after all? Maybe this would all be a healthy experience for them both?

Piper brought them the tea when they had both sat down on their favourite couch in the parlour, Harry still bent double. Draco was tenderly caressing his back to provide all the support he could muster. He thanked Piper for the tea and asked her to sit down opposite them in the armchair. He helped Harry take a few careful swigs, then he raised his own jug to his lips. Just when he was about to drink, something hit him. With narrowed eyes, he gazed up at Piper. "You didn't put any Priberty Potion in this, did you?" he inquired with suspicion.

Shock passed over his sister's eyes for a brief moment. Then she got up from her chair and took his jug. "Oh, silly me. Just a reflex, I guess. Old, nasty habit. Excuse me." She went back out to the kitchen.

When she returned, Draco shook his head. "Uh-uh, that doesn't fool me. You just poured the same tea into a different jug."

"I did not!"

"That is so transparent. Don't you think I've learnt from my previous mistakes when it comes to trusting you, dear sister?"

"Shoot!"

"There, there. You wouldn't really sink so low that you would actually impregnate Harry's body while I'm in it just 'cause I miss having my baby inside of me? That wouldn't be fair to Harry. Look at him. He didn't ask for this, yet he's bravely trying to cope with it as best he can. He wouldn't want to _stay_ pregnant once he finally got his own body back."

Piper lowered her head in shame. "No, I guess you're right. I'll be right back."

When she was gone, Harry laughed bitterly and made Draco turn his head to look at him with one eyebrow raised. "Who would've thought _you_'d be the calm one?" he said and shook his head for emphasis.

Draco laughed. "Yeah, who would? Must be your genes influencing me."

"Yeah, well, _your_ genes are sure as Hell influencing _me_ to be a grumpy, cursing big baby!"

"You make a good imitation of me," Draco agreed. "And that's actually a good thing, because we'll have to play each other for some time now. We can't let people know we've changed bodies, it'd leave us vulnerable to the Death Eaters and anyone else who would like to beat our arses."

Harry sighed. "I guess you're right... For what it's worth, Draco, it actually feels good to be the beautiful one for once."

Heart swelling, Draco leaned in closer and kissed the top of Harry's head. Then, inevitably, when he felt the strange sensation of his own soft blond hair against his lips he swiftly withdrew and made a wry face. So did Harry. Laughing nervously to break the new ice between them, Draco said, "Hehe, that felt weird."

"Yeeeaaahh... weird... don't do it again, all right?"

"Don't worry, I don't intend to."

It was difficult enough to adjust to the fact that they looked and sounded different, but when it was time for them to act like one another the problems _really_ started to pile up. For a few days they would stay in and practice their parts before they would go out into the world as "their new selves." When they began to move around amongst other people everything had to be perfect, down to the very last fleeting detail. Body language was most important, and that really was not the hard part – at least they did not think it would be so tough – because they had been watching each other for five years now; they should know the other's body language almost like their own. Then it was the tone of voice, vocabulary, emotional expressions through words... Harry had to curse a lot more than usual while Draco needed to stop cursing altogether, and it was not as easy as it sounded at the beginning. They also needed to learn the other's daily chores by heart, not to mention question of fashion. They did not wear the same type of clothes, they did not like the same hair and skin products, and they certainly did not have the same hairstyles. Draco had to start shaving while Harry had to lay off his habit of shaving every morning. All of a sudden Draco could drink again, but Harry was strictly forbidden to consume any kind of alcohol or caffeine. Harry had to throw up from time to time, and Draco felt great.

It would have been better if they had simply stuck to their original plan – which, of course, was to learn more about each other's habits before trying to play their parts out in the real world – but Harry just had to go break that mould.

And when Draco found out they could just kiss their act goodbye...

* * *

He had been feeling so weird the last twelve hours that he seriously considered to get rid of the bloody baby, he did not care if it would devastate Draco; he would get over it eventually. Being constantly sick was not exactly what he desired. He felt uncomfortable in Draco's body, what with the long hair and everything... It kept coming into his eyes and mouth, and it tasted like hairspray. How the Hell could Draco stand it?! The fact that it looked good on the blonde was one thing; Harry did not want to _have_ it on his own head! Well, technically it was not his head, but...

Oh, he needed to talk to someone about this.

That was when he remembered he had not seen Ron since he and Draco had gone to the Weasleys' to pick up James. Yeah, he could talk to Ron! Ron would surely provide him with some comfort... Harry would have preferred to snuggle up into Draco's arms and tell him just how awful he felt, because the warmth of the blonde's body could always soothe him, but then he remembered that _he_ was the blonde now, and then the idea just sort of seemed perverted and disgusting.

Such a turn-off, it was.

So he went to Ron's even though it was rather late. Fortunately, his parents were still up, and they greeted him with some surprise when he knocked on their door. "Hi, sorry to barge in like this, but I really need to see Ron," he said. "It's urgent."

Mr. and Mrs. Weasley eyed him for quite a few seconds before finally consenting and letting him in. Harry went up to Ron's room and walked straight in without knocking. He did not think of it as rude; that was what they had always done.

Ron was lying on his bed, flat on his belly, reading a book about his favourite Quidditch team, but when he saw Harry step through the door he instantly got up on his feet.

"Hey, I need to talk to you," Harry said, and went straight to the chair by the small window. He sat down and buried his face in his hands. "God, I'm so confused right now... I don't know what to do... This was never meant to happen, but now it happened, and now I'm pregnant, and I feel stupid and inadequate and worthless. Boy, he must really hate me..."

Ron was silent for a long while. Insecure, he made to sit down beside Harry, but then he changed his mind and decided to simply stand beside him, in front of the window. "Um, okay...," he said, sounding as if he was really trying to grasp the situation and help his friend, but it did not sound very convincing. "So, you got knocked up again...?"

Harry looked up at him. "What? No. I wasn't the one who got knocked up, I just have to carry the bloody monster. Shit, I've never done anything like this before, and I... I don't know how. How do you handle a pregnancy?"

Ron looked scared for his life. "Don't look at me! I don't know anything about these sorts of things! Why are you coming to me with you problems, anyways? It's not like you don't have any friends of your own..."

"What are you talking about? You are my friend. My best friend."

"In that case I really feel sorry for you."

Harry frowned. "Huh? What's that supposed to mea—"

"There you are, you bastard!"

* * *

It started early, because he soon realised that his clothes were way too big for him now. He stumbled over his own feet because the legs of his trousers were too long and gained a few bruises in embarrassing places. Therefore he changed out of his "early maternity clothes" into his regular clothes, but they were two sizes too small and way too tight for his taste. So tight it hurt in certain places, even... At first, he was too proud to admit that he needed new clothes and forced himself to endure the pain in his crotch, which by the way made it quite impossible to walk normally. Eventually, though, he succumbed to his uneasiness and resorted to search through Harry's wardrobe to find something more comfortable to wear. Ultimately he settled for a pair of Harry's favourite jeans, which were moderately worn, and a plain white shirt that smelled strongly of Harry even though it was newly washed. Draco buried his nose in the soft cotton fabric and took a deep breath. He could get high on Harry's scents. And the size difference between them was not just apparent in the way Draco's trousers had been too tight, but too long, and the way his shirt seemed to be an extremely short dress; it came down to the little details – like underwear. Oh, he felt kinky in Harry's boxers, he had never worn them before. Even putting on Harry's socks was a treasured little pleasure for Draco.

He tried to style his hair the way he was used to, but Harry's stubborn fly-away, constantly-tousled hair just would not fall in place around his face – and it would not have been long enough, anyway. While in the bathroom he discovered that _his_ hair products made Harry's hair greasy, so he swiftly washed it out and just let it be, like Harry did. And, unfortunately, his skin products – his precious skin products that kept his skin so smooth and moisturised! – made _Harry's_ skin itch. So he simply had to learn to use regular soap.

He also needed to learn how to shave – and fast, because that beard grew like nothing else! And he hated the sensation of beard against his skin, whether it was his own or anyone else's. Fortunately for him Harry shared this opinion and always shaved first thing in the morning. Or, well, maybe not always first thing in the morning... their mornings often started with tender lovemaking... and it could be sexy with the beginning of a beard sometimes...

Draco smiled at the memory of last night. They had made love all night, and they had not exactly been very quiet about it, either... it had been wonderful and invigourating. Now he was _very_ glad that they had indulged in a lovemaking marathon instead of sleeping, because their current situation made it look as if it would take a while before they could make love again. Draco was absolutely repulsed by the idea of being in the arms of himself, let alone being fucked by himself, regardless of the fact that it was Harry inside his body now. It was still _his_ body!

Then came the trouble with food. Draco was preparing his regular meals and snacks according to his pregnancy chart with absolutely no thought about the fact that he was not pregnant anymore, but fortunately Piper noticed this in good time. "Hey!" she said when he was just about to knock back his daily iron drink and made him jump in fright. "Don't drink that! That's Harry's!"

He stared at her, blinking. "What? Oh, you're right. Sorry, Harry."

Another thing that changed for Draco – because Harry had been lazy and forgetful for some time, not to mention haunted by indecision concerning his future – was that he was now expected to go to Auror school in Harry's place. He had no idea how he would pull that off without raising suspicion and making Harry look like a stupid fool. Good thing for him this body change happened on a Saturday so he would at least have a couple days to figure this out before he had to be confronted by his classmates and teachers.

Draco's day was full of adjustment and confusion, but when night fell he was pretty much starting to get the hang of it. Turned out it was not at all that hard to be Harry. Harry probably had a much harder time trying to be Draco... Speaking of which...

"Draco! Draco!" Piper came running through the hallway towards him when he exited the master bath on the third floor, and her expression witnessed of something catastrophic.

Draco hurried up to her. "What? What? What's happened?" He glanced towards the nursery. "Is it James?"

Piper feverishly shook her head. "No, it's not James. It's Harry."

Draco jerked. "What's happened to Harry?" he asked anxiously.

Piper had to slow down and take a few breaths of air before she could answer; she was panting from running up all the stairs. "He's... he's gone to the Weasleys," she told him when she had finally found her breath and slowed her heartbeats. "I tried to stop him since he's even worse at this act than you are – at least you're slowly coming along – but he wouldn't listen to me, he just Disapparated right in front of me before I could even tell him he's you. Draco, he's not even aware of being different yet. You have to get him before he blows your cover!"

Draco was off even before Piper had finished her last sentence, and the next second he was knocking firmly on the Weasleys' door. Mrs. Weasley opened the door and instantly cracked into a warm smile. "Ah, Harry dear! Come in, come in! You boys are sure up late nowadays, Draco arrived just a moment ago, he's up in Ron's room." She began to ask him "How are you, dear?" but he gave her no time to finish.

He went straight into their comfy, cosy home heading for the stairs. On his way up, he said, "That's not Draco – _I'm_ Draco. The person upstairs is Harry," because he did not care much about 'blowing the cover'. What he cared about was that Harry once again had left without telling him where and how long he'd be gone. Draco was _so_ fed up with worrying about finding him in enemy grasp again, because he would not be able to survive the death curse every time, and he was _so_ fed up at always being left in the dark, especially about things that were obviously important to Harry.

He stormed into Ron's room, interrupting Harry in the middle of a sentence. "There you are, you bastard! Did you plan on leaving me alone all night worrying about your safety? You bloody oblivious, self-righteous, smug piece of shit! You never tell me where you go! Do you expect me to accept that and stick around waiting for you forever? Because this is bloody Hell getting on my nerves now!" he yelled at the top of his lungs, pointing his right index finger accusatory at Harry.

Harry just sat there staring up at him, speechless.

The moment he walked into the room, Ron took a few steps toward him. "Harry, finally!" he said with relief. "Your boyfriend's acting real weird, he seems to think I'm his best friend or something... Maybe you should take him to the hospital or something?"

Draco – who had temporarily forgotten about the switch – did not understand that Ron was talking to him; he thought Ron was talking _about_ him to Harry, and he took his words very personally. He directed his anger at Ron. "I am _not_ acting weird, and I don't fucking need to go to the hospital! I've spent my fair share of time in the hospital! And I do _not_ consider you to be my best friend! _My_ best friend is dead!"

Ron stumbled backwards in shock. "What? But Harry, I wasn't talking about you, I... I meant Draco." He pointed at the blonde behind him. "Draco. He came here and started to talk about feeling inadequate because he didn't know how to handle the pregnancy or something. He's really worried you hate him because he don't know what to do, and mate, may I say that I think you're overreacting?"

Draco stared at him in confusion. "What? I haven't..." Then it hit him. Draco. Harry. Harry-Draco. Oh. "Sorry, Ron, I'm afraid there's been a mistake here," he said to explain himself. "I'm not angry with you, I'm only angry with the bastard who's hiding out in your room."

"Harry, you've never used this kind of language before, not even when you get real angry. Sure, you could say 'bloody' and stuff, but you've never insulted anyone before. What's got into you?"

"Oh, a certain Malfoy's gotten into me," Harry muttered from his chair.

Ron frowned in bewilderment.

"Shut up!" Draco said to Harry. "I don't want to hear another word from you unless it's a proper apology and a bloody good explanation to why you fled from me. And don't start blaming my face again, will you! It's so transparent."

Ron blinked. "Blame your face? What kind of logic is that, Harry?"

Draco moaned, irritated. "Please don't call me that."

"Call you what? Harry?"

"Yes – 'Harry'! Please stop calling me 'Harry' because _I'm - not_ Harry!"

"Draco!" Harry warned from his 'corner.'

Draco sighed and rubbed his temples. "Oh, shut up, you've already done it. He already knows something's wrong, so why don't tell him the truth and be over with it already? He's _your_ best friend – you tell him. I feel sorry for the confused bugger."

Harry nodded. "Ron, he's not Harry – I am."

The redhead stared at him with his mouth hanging wide open. Stared at the blond hair, the grey eyes, the unmistakable aristocratic features of a true Malfoy, the bumpy belly... and whimpered. He fell down on his knees and did not move, too much in shock to react in any other way.

Draco rolled his eyes. "Harry, you just made your friend go into a mental coma – are you happy with yourself?" he mocked.

Harry got up from the chair and went over to him. "Put a sock in it, Malfoy! You have no idea why I came here today, so please just spare me your scorn, okay? I don't need it. I feel stupid and worthless and disgusting enough as it is."

It was as if he had hit Draco right in the face with something blunt and hard. "Wha-what did you call me?" he whispered weakly.

Harry seemed to realise his mistake when he heard Draco's response, but that was not good enough. It was bloody well not good enough. Draco felt more hurt than he had ever felt in his entire life, and the wound that Harry's words had stabbed into his heart would never heal entirely. Never. Because he knew what that meant. Oh, he knew all right.

He turned with the intention of walking away without a single word. Tears were burning in his eyes, and it was the first time since they became a couple that he did not want Harry to see them.

"Draco, wait!" Harry begged behind him. "I can explain! Please don't go!"

He stopped just inside the doorway, but he did not turn around to look at Harry. "I hope you realise what you just did. I don't think I need to tell you why I'm hurt." A bitter chuckle escaped. "So, that's how you see me, huh? I'm just a stupid, worthless, disgusting pregnant man, am I? Glad you finally told me, Harry, I really am. Or would you rather me calling you Potter from now on? Are we back to surnames and name-calling now? Is that it? I really thought you'd be more mature about this, but I guess I was being way too optimistic. I'm sorry I ever trusted you to embrace this opportunity." And with those words, Draco left him without any concerns whatsoever in what condition he left him. He did not care anymore; Harry could do whatever he wanted. He could even break up with him, it would not matter if he saw Draco as nothing but an eyesore. He had hoped that being in Draco's body would encourage Harry to learn more about Draco, about his habits, and most of all about his life, even the parts of it that Harry never saw under normal circumstances, just like Draco had embraced this perfect opportunity to learn more about Harry, no matter how silly and wrong it felt, no matter how nervous he was that he would ultimately do something stupid that would soil Harry's reputation forever. Now it just seemed ludicrous that Draco could ever have thought such a thing, because it had obviously been as far from the truth as one could come. Harry did not care for Draco's everyday life; all he cared about was his own stupid life, and Draco being in it could just as well be a coincidence. Choosing him long before he even caught sight of Cho? Yeah, right. Choosing him over everyone else? Scarcely.

He ignored the quizzical look that Mrs. Weasley gave him when he passed her, his face wet with tears, and went straight for the door. He closed his eyes and held his breath when he heard the panicked footsteps on the stairs behind him and forced himself to shut everything out when Harry called after him. "Draco! Draco, please!" He shut the door behind him and weakly leaned against it for a moment before he drew a trembling breath of fresh night air and Apparated to the Manor. Home, he collapsed just inside the bedroom door, his back to the cold, hard wall, and snivelled loudly, his wretched, dispaired sobbing reaching even the lower floors. He had so much pain inside of him, he did not know what to do with it, he just want it to go away, go away, go away... In an attempt to free himself of the excruciating pain, he hit his head against the wall repeatedly until the headache it caused matched his emotional pain. He did not care. It was Harry's head – he could just as well get a little braindamage as punishment for this.

"Fuck him," he said, his voice trembling. "Fuck him."

Piper appeared in the doorway, and when she saw him her heart broke. She hurried over to him and protectively put her arms around him, and he did not mind. He needed to be held, and at that moment he was actually glad to see Piper. Even though she was the most stupid witch he had ever met she could also be really sweet, and she always seemed to know just when to play the part of the understanding, loving, and compassionate big sister, and he loved her for it. "What's wrong?" she asked worriedly. "Did something happen at Ron's?"

Draco nodded feverishly, but he could not find the words to tell her...

She just held him while he cried, and when the sobbing finally subsided he could finally hiccough out the first words. "He... he said I was disgusting... and he called me Malfoy... as if I didn't mean anything to him... I hate him..."

Piper held him closer. "Ssssch," she cooed, "it's all right, it's all right. I'm sure he didn't mean it."

Draco laughed bitterly. "No, he just told me plain out that he'd never felt as stupid, worthless, and disgusting as he did in my body, and he implied that it was _my _fault. What else could he have meant? 'Put a sock in it, Malfoy.' That's what he said to me, Piper. 'Put a sock in it, Malfoy.' He doesn't love me anymore. This whole body switch has made him fall out of love with me."

He got up from the floor and went over to the wardrobe and began to throw things out on the bed. Piper watched him with growing concern. "What are you doing?"

"I'm leaving."

"WHAT?!"

"I can't stand staying here another minute, not when _he_ could return home any second. I have to get away from him a while. I need to think about some things. And I can't stand his excuses and self-righteous reasons right now, it's too painful."

Piper was shocked. "But Draco... this is Harry we're talking about. _Harry_. Your Harry."

Draco stopped for a while when she said 'Your Harry'. A fresh stab of pain hit his heart. "Is he really mine?"

"Of course he is, Draco! He loves you, for fuck's sake! Doesn't that count for anything?"

"You'd have to ask him that." He inspected the clothes he had thrown on the bed and realised they were all his, which meant the wrong sizes. Suddenly struck by devine anger, he grabbed half of the garments and threw them down on the floor, where he stamped on them repeatedly to work some of the frustration out of his body. All his strength drained out of his body, and he sank down to the floor again. He buried his face in his hands. "I can't wear any of this," he snivelled childishly.

Piper squatted in front of him. "So don't pack up, then. Don't leave, Draco. He needs you, you know that."

"The fuck I do," Draco objected with hostility. "I'm not sure about any of that anymore, that's why I need to get away for a while. Don't you see? Seeing his face every time I look in a mirror will be enough to remind me of this, I don't need his bloody clothes or his bloody personal belongings or his bloody nagging to make it worse. I hate him, I don't want to see him."

Piper looked as if she had been struck. "You don't hate him. Surely you don't hate him."

"I hate him," Draco repeated firmly.

"But you don't hate him at all! You love him!"

He gave her a cold, murderous look. "I hate him because I love him so much, and I hate myself because I keep letting things like this slip. This isn't the first time, Piper. A lot has happened that you know nothing of, things we never talk about, not to anyone. With other people we're always this perfect couple who never have any problems or differences, but the truth is we do – we just don't show it to the entire world, because that is none of their business. We have problems like every other couple, and Harry's begun to hold things back lately. Whenever there is something on his mind, something that worries him, I'm no good anymore. I'm only good when he's feeling lonely or horny. I'm sick of it. He needs to learn to appreciate me again or I won't come back to him. You tell him that for me, please. He needs to figure out what he wants, otherwise our relationship is totally unnecessary and superfluous. He needs to learn to trust me again, and he needs to learn to confide in me again because I don't want to be kept in the dark anymore – I want to know what's going on in his life, in his mind. I want to know everything about him, and I want to _be_ everything to him. Is that really so much to ask for? I think all those things should be obvious in any relationship. And I'm giving him everything of myself, I have even given him my soul – literally! Now can't he do the same for me?"

Piper was silent.

"I don't want to hate him, but I can't just ignore my feelings – it's not healthy."

"But what about Harry's feelings?"

"Fuck Harry."

"What about your children, then? What about James? What about – oh, what is it you call him? – Joseph? What about _me_?"

"I'm sorry, Piper. This is something I have to do. If I don't do this I'll blow everything, I'll just keep repressing everything and I'll eventually screw things up so bad we can never repair them. I love my children, both of them, but I can't take them with me. I won't be much of a father to them. And I can't take them away from Harry, he'll need them more than I will in the time to come. Tell them I love them, will you? I can't take any more goodbyes right now." He was silent for a while, then he added: "Take care of him for me, will you?"

And then he left the Manor.

* * *

Harry knew he had done the stupidest thing in his entire life right then and there, but he was not given any chance to make it right again. Maybe he deserved that. He _had_ been awfully cold just now. How could he have said that? It had been the right words in the wrong context, and he had hurt his lover bad. Real bad this time.

Mrs. Weasley apparently did not understand what was going on at all. She looked after Draco with concern in her warm, friendly eyes, and then she looked at Harry. This time her gaze was stern and somewhat hostile; it was almost intimidating. "What did you do to Harry this time?" she asked accusatory.

At first Harry did not know what to say, and when he did he could not because a hard lump had formed in his throat and tears were clouding his vision. He collapsed onto the floor. Shaking with pain and loss and regret, he called to his lover in a low, weak voice: "Draco... Draco... Draco..."

Ron appeared before him. He was kneeling on the floor beside him with a concerned expression on his flushed face. Hesitant, he said: "Ha-Harry?"

Harry stopped chanting Draco's name. "Yes. Yes, it's me. I'm Harry."

Mrs. Weasley heard that and came up to them. She, too, kneeled beside him. "Harry? But how is that possible?"

Ron glanced at the closed front door. "And that was... Draco?"

Harry nodded. "Yes. Piper did some sort of spell, but it backfired and Draco and I switched bodies somehow. We've been like this since this morning." He told them about everything that had happened that morning, and about his and Draco's many strenuous adjustments.

"But what was _that_ all about?!" Ron asked, referring to what had occured in his room only fifteen minutes ago.

Harry sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. "I was a bit too outspoken, I think," he said darkly. "What I meant to tell him was that I didn't need any mockery because I already felt as bad about myself as one can possibly feel because I couldn't live up to his expectations. Or something like that. I mean... Draco's always been great with the pregnancy and everything, he's never made much of a fuss about it, and now suddenly _I'm_ the one pregnant – and I didn't know how to react to that. I'm not disgusted because I look like Draco, or because I pretty much _am_ Draco now, but because I'm doing such a bad job at _being_ him. And... I'm ashamed..."

"Ashamed?" Mrs. Weasley said.

"Yeah, because I can't even touch Draco without getting repulsed. I hate it. I _want_ to touch him, I _love_ to touch him, but he looks like me, and it's just... it's weird, is all."

They spoke for another ten minutes or so. All Harry wanted was to return home and talk things through with Draco, but they kept him there until they had fully grasped the situation. When they finally released him he was mentally exhausted and physically agitated. He wondered what Draco would do to him when he got home. Knowing the blonde, the punishment could be excruciating.

He also wondered what he would say to Piper. Should he tell her the truth or simply tell a little white lie until he knew how serious the situation was? He decided to ignore her altogether and try to sneak past her before she noticed he was home. Unfortunately that woman had ears like a doberman and instantly came running when she heard him.

She studied him with stern, cold-hearted eyes; they were the grey of heavy storm clouds and tomb stones. She was leaning against the archway into the parlour. "What did you do to him?"

Her words were as merciless as any that had come out of her father's mouth while he was still alive.

Harry did not know what to say. Instead, he asked her where Draco was.

"What – did – you – do – to – him?" Piper repeated relentlessly.

"I didn't actually _do_ anything, I just... said the wrong things," Harry said, squirming. He felt like nine again when he had accidentally (magically) coloured one of his classmates' hair blue when he was teasing him.

"Oh, you must have done _something_," Piper insisted with despise and resentment. "I've never seen him so upset before. Never. Wouldn't stop crying for half an hour. He even let me comfort him, so what does that tell you? Told me he hated you. _Hated_ you, Harry. What did you do to my brother?"

Harry could not take it anymore; her words burnt into his heart and demolished it. He ran up to their bedroom in a panic, deeply worried about Draco. If he had in fact been crying incessantly for more than half an hour... and if he had allowed Piper to hold him... then it was even worse than he had expected. If only he could have kept his big mouth shut...

"Draco!" He stumbled over the threshold and fell face first to the floor. He cursed and got back up on his feet. The first thing he noticed was the utter mess that Draco had left behind in there. All of his clothes were thrown all over the floor and the bed and the desk...

Harry did not want to accept what this must mean.

"Happy now?"

Harry swirled around.

Piper was standing in the doorway, watching him with dislike.

He went up to her. "Piper, where is he? Please, you have to tell me where he is, I need to make this right..."

She lowered her gaze. "He left."

Harry jerked. "What?"

"He left about ten minutes ago. Said he needed to be alone for a while to think things over. He left a message: You need to learn to trust and appreciate him again or he won't come back to you. He's feeling neglected, Harry. You're not telling him things anymore, and he wants to know what's going on with you – he wants to be a part of you, Harry. He has given you everything that he could possibly give to another person, and you're not giving as much back. He's fed up with it, and I understand that feeling. Do _you_ understand that feeling, Harry? Do you have enough willpower to fight for him? He's doing this to _save_ your relationship, you know. He doesn't want to lose you. Now, do _you_ want to lose _him_?"

Harry sat down on the bed. It was too much to digest at once.

Piper had a strange glint in her grey eyes. "Do you want to get him back, Harry?"

"Yes! Yes, of course I want him back! What did you think? Hell..."

"Then you have to fight for him."

He tried to ransack his mind for a solution to his problem, but there was nothing.

Nothing.

He was completely empty, like a big great hollow, and it was filling up with pain.

"I've lost him, haven't I?" he said darkly.

"Not necessarily. You still have a chance to prove your love to him."

That did not sound very promising. How the Hell did you prove such a complicated thing as _love_ to someone as stubborn as Draco Malfoy?

_Well, you can start by not calling him 'Malfoy'_, Harry thought bitterly to himself.

"What should I do to make him come back to me? What _can_ I do? I'd do anything. Anything at all."

Yes, he would do anything to get Draco back. He would even give up himself. He would walk through fire for him, sleep on ice, and starve. But would it ever be enough? Would it _ever_ be enough?

_(To be continued...)_

"Boku o michibiku kasuka-na shiruetto..."

* * *

**_Oh, man...! I had totally forgotten about "Memory Loss"! Unbelievable! It was lucky that I received two new reviews for this story so I would be reminded that I need to update it! Nee? :D  
So, thank you DarkAnubisAngel for the reviews! X3_**

**_As I have told you guys before, this is a story I wrote some time ago and which is not finished yet... but I am publishing all the old chapters here at FF-net in hopes of being able to finish it once I reach the last already-written chapter. Because of my work with my other fics on this site, and also on my original stories of course, it may take me some time to update this story even though it is already ready-to-publish, so to speak. I could sit down and do everything at once, yeah, but it would take me a veeery long time - and if I feel pulled towards one of my other stories I have to obey, haha. ;P The characters call out to me and demand to know why I'm not writing about this and that that just "happened" to them, hahaha... oh, the wonders and the responsibilities of being a writer... (jocular grin)_**

**_Yes, indeed, what will Harry have to do to get his precious little Dracums back? Perhaps it's got something to do with his body... (and I mean his body, which is currently inhabited by Draco's soul...) And in part 6 you'll finally get to know the truth about who the blond boy is... yes, the one who always shows up when things are getting dangerous or to give clues to James's current whereabouts. Please look forward to that! ;P_**

**_Love, Piper_**


	32. And so the tables were turned, part 6

**Rating:** PG-17/mpreg

**Pairing:** H/D

**Disclaimer:** All characters belong to J.K. Rowling, except for my little creations: Piper, Tom, James, "Joseph", the mystery teens, the Forgettes, Yousuke Sakanoue.

**Disclaimer II:** The nickname "Dracums" still belongs to Golden, I'm afraid... :p

**Author's note:** Boy, does Harry put his soul into convincing Draco that he loves him... and with that greeting?! There is nothing like hearing the words "_I hate you!!_" :P Time to save that relationship. _And!!_ This part will reveal who the mysterious blond boy is, and who the woman controlling him is...

* * *

**And so the tables were turned... (6)**

Darkness. Silence. Cold. Inner cold. A soul-cold. His soul had an emotional cold caused by betrayal. He felt numb, sedated... yet he was wide awake. It was as if he was falling through an eternal spiral of pain, just falling, falling, falling... deeper down into nothingness. Into despair – and longing. He longed to feel Harry's arms around him once more, longed to hear his dark, sexy, semi-hoarse voice whisper obscene invitations in his ear, longed to be kissed, to be touched, to be loved... He dreamt strange dreams at night, and even though they were no nightmares they still depressed and frightened him. He dreamt that he was home again, that Harry had apologised and that everything was fine again, they had their own bodies again, and they had their new baby – a beautiful little boy with thick, blond hair just like his father's. They were talking again – about everything, sharing everything – and they were making love again, sometimes tenderly and gently, sometimes it was just plain hardcore sex, and sometimes it was rather kinky – but still nice. All nice. They were nice dreams, yet he felt betrayed by them because they did not show the truth; they showed a reality he _wanted_ and _desired_, they did not show the _real_ reality.

"I hate you," he said aloud to the empty room.

He was not sure whether it was directed at Harry or at himself – or at them both. All he knew was that he had a strong hatred inside of himself, and it was impossible to deny.

"I hate you."

The silence became oppressive sometimes, but when it did he would simply pull the quilt up over his head and pretend that he was somewhere else. Later, when the fear had subsided, he would pull the quilt back down and continue staring up at the curved ceiling. Sometimes he forgot to eat, but he did not care much. For each day that passed he hoped that Harry would come to get him, and for every day that he did not come he hated him a little more.

"I hate you..." Tears came to his eyes, and his voice sounded whiny and silly. He snivelled and closed his eyes. Oh, he missed James. He missed his baby, his wonderful little baby...

He wanted his baby back.

He wanted his body back so Harry would love him again.

"I hate you, I hate you, I hate you... _I love you_..."

A tear fell down on the pillow.

And as the sun set and the last light faded around the edges of the boarded-up window, Draco fell into a troubled sleep.

"I miss you..."

* * *

"Tell me already!" he yelled at her indifferent face. "Tell me, for fuck's sake! Where – _is_ – he?!"

Her eyes were as cold and disliking as they had been for the past week. She stubbornly turned away. "I've already told you a hundred zillion times – I – don't – know."

He slammed his fists down into the table. "Liar! _Tell me!_"

"I don't know where he is! He just left without saying a word about where he was going, and how am I supposed to know how my deranged brother's mind works? You should find it easier to solve that puzzle _because you're the one who made him go insane!_"

"Dammit!" Harry walked over to the kitchen counter. He ran his fingers through his thick, blond hair. He knew what he was doing was fruitless, and he knew that yelling at Piper was wrong because she did not really have any fault in Draco's disappearance, but yelling meant hearing Draco's voice exactly the way he remembered it – angry, demanding, impatient – and Harry savoured it like a piece of the finest Swiss chocolate. He needed to hear his lover yell at something, because it kept his hope alive. He turned to her anew. "Why didn't you track him or something? You _can_ do that, right?"

"Yes, of course I can," Piper assured him and sucked on the straw that she had put into the glass of her homemade vanilla milkshake.

"So why didn't you? Why didn't you track him when he left?"

"Because this doesn't concern me – this is between you guys. I have absolutely no business interfering in this."

"But it's okay to interfere in everything else?!"

"Not _everything_, no. There are limits – rules."

"Oh, there are rules, are there?"

"Yeah, unwritten and unspoken rules about privacy. It's unconsciously understood by anyone smart enough to care about people."

"Oh, shut up, you're making me feel even worse... and I thought people couldn't feel this much pain without being dying... Piper, I think my soul is dying." He had to lean against the counter for support. "I need to find him. Please help me."

Piper studied him intently. Then a frown searched its way onto her forehead. Stunned, she opened her mouth and the straw fell down on the table, leaving a sticky trace of vanilla milkshake as it rolled off the table and onto the floor. "Harry... you're shimmering!"

He knitted his brows. "What?" Looked down at himself.

He was not wearing Draco's clothes anymore – that was _his_ jumper! But how...? "What the Hell?"

Piper rose from the table. "You're doing the exact same thing Draco did when he was... when he was crying..."

It was over in a few seconds. Draco's light green silk shirt was back, as if it had never disappeared in the first place. Harry stared down at himself in astonishment. "What just happened?"

"I don't know, I've never seen anything like it before. It's as if your inner self broke through for a second or something."

"Maybe it did. What do you mean the same thing happened to Draco when he was... crying?" He had to swallow hard to be able to say that word out loud.

Piper tried to think back. "He was sitting on the floor with his back against the wall, shaking, and he was trying to hide his tears in his hands... but he couldn't hide them, they were too many. I guess he was ashamed of crying... he's always been so proud... but his sobbing gave him away... he couldn't stop sobbing, and he was almost screaming straight out from all the pain he was in... it was awful. And then suddenly it was as if he flashed or something... and he looked like himself. But it lasted only a fraction of a second so I wasn't even sure I'd actually seen it, you know. But now I'm sure. He flashed back for a moment. But not physically, because you were obviously still him, but for a moment his psychic energy was so strong that his soul took over his body, if you know what I mean."

Harry nodded. "I actually think I do." He was silent for a while. Then: "So, you really don't know where he is?"

"No, I've already told you like a thousand times – and that's just today's count!"

"I'm sorry, Piper. It's just that... I'm worried about him. Right now I should be taking care of him, but I can't because he's disappeared. You've got to help me find him."

She stood her ground.

"Please, Piper! It's a matter of life and death here – literally! It's not safe for him out there!"

She snorted. "My brother knows how to take care of himself, there's no need to worry about that."

"Yes, there is!" Harry was getting angry again. "You don't understand! He has no-one out there! No-one! He doesn't have any friends besides the ones he shares with me, and he wouldn't go to my friends for support because I would find him there immediately. He's got no-one, Piper. He's all alone out there. Please, you've got to help me find him before it's too late."

She gazed at him with uncertainty. "Are you sure you're clear with what you have to do to win him back?"

"Yes! Yes, I'm sure!"

Another annoying silence followed.

Eventually she nodded, and sighed deeply. "I might know where you can find him..."

* * *

"His energy is getting weaker."

She is watching him, he knows she is watching him, but he cannot see it himself since he is standing with his back to her. But he can imagine her long, dark hair falling into her face, successfully hiding her feline eyes to protect herself from everyone's prying stares. Not even he is allowed to look into her enigmatic eyes. There are moments when she chooses to show him what she thinks in her innermost by letting him gaze into her eyes, but those moments are rare, and he treasures them dearly. Today will not bring any such moments in its wake. But he is content just to be in her service.

She is his everything for now. And she will be until he finds The Other.

His search for The Other has been long and arduous, but he knows that he will get rewarded for his selflessness one day.

And then he will become whole.

"In what way is it weakening?" she asks him with that hollow, sorrowful voice, so low but yet so strong and intriguing; she has him completely in her control.

He does not mind being used. She is a user, and he is the used. She is the dominator, and he is the submissive. That has been their reality ever since the war started.

He gazes out at the gardens behind the big house. "He is giving in to the pain, and it makes him physically weaker," he informed her solemnly. "I am worried about him. He is nothing like we know him now. He has changed."

She is silent for a while. He loves her silences, savoures them.

"Do you mean that he has changed now, in our time, or that his change was in the past time that you so often visit? Is this change something that is new to that time? Have your interactions and interferences somehow changed the time continuum?"

He closes his eyes and imagines the garden in summertime, blossoming with millions of colourful flowers. He can even smell the fresh breeze and taste the pollen in the air. "Both." It will never be summer again, not like it was before. And to think that it could change that much in only a couple of decades... "He is swiftly losing his physical strength... but his mental and emotional energy is building up to a disastrous climax. I wonder if I should interfere with it... prevent it from exploding."

Yet again, she is silent, his mistress.

Then, she asks: "Are you talking about Harry or Draco?"

It is his turn to be silent.

He watches the leaves swirl in the winds outside the French windows. "He shouldn't have had to die, you know."

She sighs behind him. "Is that why you insist on assisting them? Are you trying to save his life?"

"If my actions and clues can help save his life, then I would be most grateful. That would mean that I have accomplished something. Without him, the world is dark. You want to make the world a nice place to love again, and it will be if he stays alive. I know it in my heart, and I feel it in the flow of time. The night he died was the night time stopped. Not just for us, but for many people. His continued existence will ensure many changes for the good."

"Tom will stay James?"

"I cannot assure that, it is all very uncertain at this stage."

"Nothing you do will bring them back. You might as well give up and let time have its way."

He firmly shakes his head. "No. I cannot stop – not ever. I need to make up for my past mistakes. But now I had better go get the boy."

He reluctantly leaves her to her quiet ponderings.

* * *

The trees were closing in on him, tall and black and naked, and he felt cramped, as if the entire world was closing in on him, capturing him in an eternal prison of primeval forest. He knew there were other people there, but he could not see anyone, and for some reason he knew that Harry was right there beside him, he could just feel his lover's presence. He tried to grasp the situation, but when he finally understood that it was a trap it was too late; he felt the bullet penetrate his chest.

Draco woke with a start. He was panting, his heart was pounding, and he was damp with sweat. That dream again. It was getting more intense, more veritable... more genuine.

His vision was blurry, so he turned on the only light in the room, which happened to be a bedside lamp on a small nightstand. But his vision was still blurry, and he was starting to panic. Oh, my God, I'm going blind! he thought hysterically before he realised that his vision was _supposed_ to be blurry because Harry was nearsighted. He exhaled in a sigh of utmost relief. He put on the glasses, the only item that he had taken with him when he left the Manor – probably because he had already been wearing them. He would not bother with the contact lenses since they were so tiny and complicated to get in place.

With the glasses on, he saw that it was 5 PM. Boy, he had really been sleeping soundly! 14 bloody hours uninterruptedly! It was the most he had slept since Harry and he...

The pain made itself reminded again, and when he recalled that this was the seventh day that Harry had not come for him the pain turned into anger, and anger turned into wrath.

Slightly past 5 he went berserk.

* * *

Snape. Who would have thought that Draco would seek refuge with Snape? Harry found it hard to imagine that man being anything else than a pain in the arse, let alone comforting someone or offering his support to someone in pain and misery. But that was Piper's guess, and Piper's guess was as good as any other. She still knew things about Draco that he did not, like for example the fact that Severus Snape had been one of Lucius Malfoy's closest and most loyal friends during the days they had both been amongst Voldemort's devouted Death Eaters. Draco had known Snape well long before he went to Hogwarts and faced him as a teacher.

The professor was visually surprised to see him there, but instantly let him inside. Harry had had no idea that Snape actually owned a house; he had thought that the old snake lived in his office at Hogwarts permanently like some sort of eccentric eremite. "Funny to see you here, Mr. Potter," was the first thing Snape said when he had closed the door behind them and offered Harry to take a seat, which he had declined.

"Believe me, I'm as surprised as you," Harry said. "Is Draco here?"

He already knew that the answer must be 'yes', because how else would Snape had known that he was Harry and not Draco?

But to his utter annoyance, the teacher shook his head. "No, haven't seen him since the day you survived Pywercaseley's death curse," he drawled unpleasantly.

"Is that so?" Harry said. "Then how come you know I'm not Draco? There is no other way for you to know we've switched bodies."

Snape's lips curled into a smug smile. "You forget that I'm quite skilled in Legilimency, Potter. I can read your mind."

"I don't believe you. I know he's here, so just tell me where and we'll be off your property in no time."

"I don't think he wishes to see you, Potter. No offense."

Harry jerked. He was surprised that the professor had relented his guard that easily. "So, he _is_ here?" He glanced at the staircase at the other end of the living room. "Is he upstairs?"

Snape did not need to answer that question, because the very next second a voice that was unmistakably his own – but now belonging to Draco, of course – began to shout at the top of its lungs. The words were not very flattering...

"_I hate you!_ _I hate you, I hate you, I hate you, I hate you, I hate you,_ _you fucking bastard!_ Why did you have to go and do that, you silly-prissy-wannabe-tender-sonofabitch?! I hate you! I hate you for the fact that you never tell me where you go and I hate you for the fact that you always assume that I'm too fragile to handle simple wizard business! I hate you for always telling me off when I'm trying to be pleasing! I hate you for being so fucking condescending and I hate you for always patronising me and I hate you for treating me like some sort of porcalain doll that breaks into a million smithereens by the gust of a wind! _I hate you, I hate you, I hate you!_ I hate you for always being so sweet to me, and I hate you for being such a bloody damned good kisser! I hate you for making me look like a fool in your friends' company and I hate you for making fun of me when I'm being overprotective and overreacting! _I hate you, you sonofabitch_ – _hate you, hate you, hate you, hate you, hate you!_ I wish you were here so I could smash this bloody lamp into your bloody perfect face, you bastard!" There was a short silence and a loud _thump_. When Draco spoke again there was a new fragility in his voice, a tremble that indicated that he was crying again. "Why don't you come here, you bastard? Why aren't you coming for me..."

Harry's heart was breaking. He had had no idea that Draco felt that way, and it slowly started to dawn on him that it was his own fault.

"I hate you for not talking to me about your problems and I hate you for not letting me help you solve them! I hate you for treating me like some sort of sex machine that you can use whenever you feel like it, and I hate you for sweet-talking me in the morning! I hate you for telling me I'm pretty when I sleep! I hate you for being so goddamn beautiful, I hate you for that lovely smile, I hate you for making me drown in your eyes, I hate you for knowing exactly how to make me laugh, I hate you for being the only one who can tickle me, I hate you for giving me that look when I've done something stupid, I hate you for always saying the right things, I hate you for complementing my cooking, I hate you for your cheesy come-on lines, and I hate you for being so bloody perfect all the time! I hate you for being shorter than me, and I hate the fact that you look better in my clothes than I do! _I hate you, you bastard - why aren't you coming back for me?! _I hate you for making me wait... I hate you for never coming... why aren't you coming, you bastard!?"

Another short silence followed.

Draco appeared to be throwing things around him upstairs.

"I hate you... why aren't you coming? Don't you see that I love you? I hate you because I love you so much, Harry... Harry, please come back for me... I don't want to hate you..."

Harry felt crushed under his lover's immense pain and did not know what to do.

He turned to Snape for support. "Er... has he been doing this a lot since he came here?" he asked because he could not come up with anything better to say.

"Every day," Snape said honestly, apparently just to make Harry feel bad, "several times a day. I have to replace all my belongings in that room with a few simple cleaning and repairment spells at least five times a day. He's very fond of trashing things when he's upset, your boyfriend."

Harry could not take anymore; he had to see Draco _now_. He ran up the stairs, calling: "Draco!" From inside the room directly to the right he heard his lover say, "No... don't mock me like this, don't you dare to fool me like this! How dare you impersonate Harry impersonating me?!"

Harry pulled open the door and crossed the threshold. Draco was sitting in the middle of the floor surrounded by debris and his face was red and swollen and wet with fresh tears. His black hair was tousled, worse than ever. When he saw Harry in the doorway he stiffened. In his soul, Harry was hoping that Draco would light up like he always did when he saw him and come running into his arms, because that was what he had been wishing for only a minute ago; he wished to be saved, to be carried away by his own knight. But nothing like that happened; not even a faint smile was given to him. The moment Draco understood that he was no illusion, that he was the real deal, his features became cold and stern, and his eyes narrowed into slits. "How dare you come here?" he hissed in a low, hostile voice. "Get out! Get out before I curse you!"

Harry jerked. He did not understand what he had done wrong, did not understand why Draco was rejecting him. "What? But you wanted me to come, you were screaming for me to come, you were crying out to me, calling to me – why are you showing me the door now? I came as fast as I could, and you—"

"You – know – nothing," Draco said harshly. "You had better leave before I do anything I will regret. I am saying this as a friend, Harry; _leave_. I can't be held responsible for what I might do to you if you stay. Please, leave, and don't ever come back."

Harry was shaken. "Leave? But, Dracums, I don't understand... First you cry for me to come, and then you're just going to kick me out of your life entirely? How does that add up? Listen, I didn't come here to give up and admit myself defeated – I came here to prove to you that I love you. You know that I love you, Draco, I love you more than anything else in the world – I love you more than my own life, for crying out loud! I will not leave without you. I won't."

"Put a sock in it, Malfoy."

The words bounced off Harry with the power of a sledgehammer. That was when he understood that it was all meaningless; he had already lost.

Draco bit his lower lip. "What do you see when you look at me, Harry?"

Yet again, he was taken aback. "When I look at you?"

"Yes, what do you see?"

"Well, I see... me. Now, what kind of question is—"

Draco laughed bitterly, slowly shaking his head. "You really think you have it figured out, don't you? But you know nothing. _Nothing_. I told Piper to keep you away until you'd grasped the situation, but you just had to come prematurely, didn't you? You're always so self-assured, so bloody self-righteous... But tell me, Harry... when you look at me, can you see the intolerable pain that you have forced upon me? Can you feel the rage that is slowly wearing me down, tearing me apart? Can you hear the agonised crying of my soul?"

Harry stumbled backwards. "Wha-what are you talking about? I don't understand, Draco... you're scaring me..."

"When I look at you, it's not my face I see – it's yours. And you know why? Because I can see your soul, Harry. I see _you_ because I care about you. So, tell me: Can _you_ see _my_ soul?"

Finally he understood where the blonde was going.

Draco was studying him with agitated impatience, and the strange glow in his eyes was eerie and intimidating – almost primitive. He expected a certain answer, and there was no telling what he might do if that particular answer was not given to him.

Harry found himself trembling. His lover's psychological warfare was swiftly and effectively breaking him down as he realised what must be happening, what it all must mean. "I... I... I can't... I'm sorry…"

He had spent so many hours trying to figure out what Draco wanted from him – what it would take of him to get his boyfriend back – and he had thought that he knew what that was. But he had been wrong. Not until now did he finally understand what Draco was seeking. All that talk about seeing his soul or not... It was all a test. He was testing Harry's love. And the ultimate test was to see if Harry could look beyond his own face and still be intimate with him even though he was in Harry's body. As it dawned on him, he knew what to do; the only thing he _could_ do to save this relationship. And he was going to do it, screw the twistedness of touching himself! He would do whatever it took to convince Draco to return back home with him.

Drawing a deep breath, he steeled himself in case Draco would lash out at him as he approached him, and then he walked over to his lover and placed a gentle, affectionate kiss on the right corner of his lover's mouth. He was careful to linger on Draco's skin for several seconds to prove to him that it did not repulse him anymore. Because it did not. He was surprised to find that it felt natural, and that it did not feel strange or perverted at all; he was just kissing his Dracums.

And when he broke the kiss, the blonde was staring up at him with huge, inquiring eyes. Boy, did it feel weird to actually be taller than Draco! Nothing of the previous rage seemed to be left in the blonde now; it had been replaced by wonder, bafflement, and bewilderment. "You... you kissed me... but I thought you didn't want to come anywhere near me 'cause I'm you... Harry, what...?"

After that kiss, Harry lost all the strength that was left in him and fell down onto his knees. He could not even lift his gaze to meet Draco's eyes; it was too painful. This had been his last chance, and it had turned into a goodbye. A bitter, reluctant, sad goodbye.

Draco knelt before him. His face expressed great concern. "Harry... you're shaking..."

Yes, he could see Draco's pain. Yes, he could feel his rage – and it was destroying him. With tears clouding his vision and his voice trembling with emotion, he said, "I'm losing you, aren't I?"

The blonde jerked as if he had been slapped in the face.

"I can't make up for my mistake, can I? I've already lost you..."

Green eyes reflecting so much pain, so much regret, so much anxiety. He reached out one hand and briefly touched Harry's chin with his fingertips. "You couldn't be more wrong, Harry. I'm not going to leave you. I'm yours – I belong to you. I don't have anyone else, and there is no-one else I would rather spend my life with. But you hurt me, and I need to heal my wounds. That's why I left. I needed some time alone to think things through, because I didn't want to make things worse between us with my self-destructive mood. I never intended to leave you, I simply needed a break. Space."

"You're leaving me," Harry persisted.

"No, I'm not leaving you."

Now Harry was crying for real; salty tears streamed down his cheeks and chin, and loud sobs escaped him. "But you said you hated me... you said it several times... you hate everything about me, so how could you possibly stay with me? I would only make you unhappy. I've already made you unhappy, I've made you mad, I've hurt you... I don't deserve you. You hate me..."

Draco was silent for a long while, and the sadness in his soul was apparent as he sighed and sat down in the debris on the floor. "I can't deny that. You really hurt me, Harry, and you've been doing it for several months now, I just couldn't take any more. You calling me Malfoy was just the last straw, because you made me feel as if I didn't mean more to you than I did during all those years at school when we were enemies. I hate you for that, I really do. But you must understand something, Harry. The only reason that I can hate you this much, this purely, is because I love you so bloody much. If I didn't love you, then how could I hate you for hurting me? Huh?"

Harry snivelled and looked up at him. "You really mean that?" he asked warily.

"Yes. But that doesn't mean the hatred goes away just 'cause I've said it. You'll have to work real hard to make me trust you again."

"I understand that, and I'm willing to do whatever it takes."

"So, that kiss... was that just because you had to? Or was it because you really wanted to kiss me?"

"It was because I wanted to kiss you. I want to prove to you that I'm not afraid anymore. Of the fact that you're me, I mean... Hell, I guess I never was, it's just... I hate myself."

The blonde's eyes widened with bafflement. "Eh? What d'you mean?"

Harry sighed. He felt bitter and worthless again. "Exactly what I'm saying. I hate myself, that's why I can't stand touching you when you're in my body. I've hated myself ever since... ever since I couldn't save Sirius... Or maybe even longer than that, I think I already did after the Triwizard Tournament, after what happened to Cedric... I couldn't save him, either. Hell, I've hated myself ever since that night when Wormtails escaped and returned to Voldemort. I promised Sirius I'd clear his name, but I... I didn't succeed until he was already dead. There's a lot of people I couldn't save, and I should've been able to save them, but I didn't..."

Realisation and understanding were reflected in his lover's eyes as he finally began to grasp the severity of Harry's condition. Of what had been eating away at him for so many years. "Harry, I never knew. If you'd just told me..."

"I know, but I've never felt strong enough to tell anyone – especially not you, Draco. I was afraid that you'd... I mean, you can't love somebody else before you learn to love yourself, right? I was afraid that you'd think..."

His voice failed him.

"I see. But, Harry... Do you _hate_-hate yourself, or do you just plain hate yourself?"

Harry stared at him with knitted eyebrows. "What? What kind of logic is that, Dracums? Oh... now I see what you mean. I'm afraid I have to tell you that I HATE-_hate_-hate myself."

Draco gasped and gently put his hands around Harry's face and forced him to look at him. "You HATE-_hate_-hate yourself?! HATE-_hate_-hate? Oh, baby... you've hated yourself for so many years? For over seven years? Seven bloody years you've HATE-_hate_-hated yourself?!"

"Yeah."

"Man... HATE-_hate_-hate... that's awful, baby, just awful. I wish I could do something to ease your pain, to make you accept yourself and come to turns with what you've done."

Harry glowered at him. "Shut up or you'll make me H-A-T-E-HATE-_hate_-hate myself," he muttered.

Draco blushed. "I'm sorry." Then he shot up from the floor. "Hey! What am I apologising to _you_ for?! You haven't even apologised to me yet!"

Harry, too, got up from the floor and stood facing Draco. "I know, and I'm sorry for that. Draco, that night at Ron's I never meant to say those things – everything just came out wrong because I was so angry with myself. I was angry with myself for not handling the pregnancy as well as you've always handled it, and I felt inadequate because I couldn't figure out how to do it. I was embarrassed to tell you because you were always doing everything so perfectly, you never complained about it so I didn't want to complain either... I just wanted to be as strong as you, and when I failed I became furious with myself. I already hated myself as much as one can hate oneself, I had no room for more hatred, and I... I just lost control of myself, is all. When you came into the room screaming at me like that, throwing all those accusations into my face... I knew you were right, and I hated myself even more 'cause I couldn't be there for you, 'cause I couldn't do all those things you wanted me to do, and I... I guess I just lost it. I had come to hate myself so much I didn't know what I was doing or saying – not until it was already too late. I'm aware that I made it sound as if I was disgusted with your body – with you – but the truth is I was disgusted with myself for being unable to touch you or even go near you. And that had nothing to do with you – it had everything to do with me. As for calling you Malfoy... I think I was deliberately trying to hurt you with that one, and that scares me. That's what the psychologists call the last stage of self-hatred, right? The stage in which you're not just self-destructive anymore, but in which you start destroying your loved ones as well. It scares the shit out of me, because I don't want to hurt you, and I don't want to be that person. I am truly and honestly sorry that I said all those things to you like that, I should've been more careful and said it right the first time. I just need help, Draco. I need help to get over everything that's happened in the past, all the people I lost, and I need help to understand that it wasn't my fault. I need help to accept my past and love myself again. Please, Draco, help me. I need your help."

The blonde gently touched his face again, still very wary to touch him too much and give him the wrong idea. But he touched him, and that meant that he was willing to try; he was willing to work to make their relationship good again. Harry felt somewhat soothed by that knowledge, but at the same time he felt sadder than he had been before he came there, because Draco was still so far away; he still had such a long way to go before he had brought his lover back entirely. And he also had a long way to go before he himself had been brought back entirely. And there was so much pain in Draco's eyes... so much sorrow... and that's when he realised that he was looking into Draco's eyes again. "Dracums!" he said and grabbed the blonde's arm as a reflex. "Your eyes are grey! And your hair... I can see you! I can see you now, baby! I see you..."

Draco jerked free of his hand. "Don't touch me," he said, "I'm not ready for you to touch me yet. But I'm glad that you can see me now, Harry. I really am." He leaned forward somewhat to be able to gaze more directly into Harry's eyes. "I'll come back with you. I'll help you with your problems. I'll help you love yourself again, Harry. I'll make you see what a wonderful bloke you are – and I'll make you see it through my eyes."

Harry's lower lip trembled briefly. "You mean you're... you're really coming back to me?" he whispered.

The blonde took a few steps back. "Harry... you don't understand. There still is a part of me who hates you – a huge part of me. I'm not ready to have everything return to normal yet, there'll have to be changes made when we get home. Do you understand what I'm telling you?"

Harry nodded numbly. "Ye-yes. I understand."

"I won't sleep with you."

"I wasn't expecting you to sleep with me right away, Draco, I know it's too soon for that."

"No, what I meant is I won't _sleep_ with you – _sleep_, only sleep. I won't share your bed at all. I want separate bedrooms."

Harry jerked. "Oh. Sure, naturally you'll have your own room. No biggy. We'll just start off from the beginning again, yeah?"

"I think we'll have to start off a little bit further back than that."

"Oh? How far back exactly?"

The blonde made a pause. "We need to get to know each other again in order to trust each other. We'll start by talking – just talking. From now on you need to tell me everything about your feelings, your problems, whatever, if you want me to be close to you again. Are we clear on that?"

"Yeah, perfectly clear."

"Great. Then we'll slowly go on from there. Let everything come naturally."

"Yeah, we... don't wanna rush things."

Draco nodded. "All right. Let's go home, then."

They said nothing more to each other when they borrowed some Floo powder from Snape and used his fireplace to return to the Manor. Piper came to meet him, probably expecting him to return alone, and when she saw Draco she gave a shriek of excitement and ran over to him. Her arms opened wide, she said: "Dracoooo!"

"Don't touch me," the blonde warned indifferently.

She instantly withdrew her arms. "Glad to have you back, bro," she said happily.

"Glad to be back, sort of. Now scram."

She gave Harry a huge smile and a kiss on the cheek before she took off. "Thank you for bringing him back just the way he was before you drove him away."

Harry blinked. Huh?

Draco had gone straight into the den, and Harry intended to follow him when he heard voices in there. "Hey! You're that boy! You're..."

Harry hurried into the den.

Joseph was standing by the windows, and he was holding James in his arms. The two brothers looked so cute together...

"James!" Draco exclaimed and went over to the boys to retrieve his son. "Oh, I've missed you, little guy! How are you?"

"Teef," James said, which meant 'teeth'.

"Oh, what about your teeth, honey?"

"Moole," the little boy said and pointed to his mouth.

"You're having more teeth? That's so great, Jimmy." He looked up at the blond boy, who was watching him with that sad, dead look. "Thank you for bringing him back, and thank you for finally letting me see you."

The boy nodded in a way that almost made it look as if he was bowing to them. "No need to thank me. I found him in 16th century France about to witness a series of decapitations, so I thought I should take him away from there before he saw anything inappropriate for a child his age."

Harry frowned. "16th century France? What was he doing in Mideival France?"

The blond boy looked at him. "I cannot answer that – only James can."

"Thank you, Joseph," Draco said.

The boy knitted his brows in suspicion. "Why are you calling me that?"

Draco seemed taken aback by the question. "Well, because that's the name we've given you."

"You never gave me that name," the boy objected.

"Yeah, we did," Harry said. "The baby we're expecting – that's you, right? We named you Joseph, after my grandfather."

The blond boy was silent for a while. Then, to their surprise, a small smile formed on his lips. "So, that is where the name came from?" he stated. "I am sorry, but I have to leave. She is calling me."

He vanished before they had time to ask him more questions about his origin.

* * *

She patiently waits for him to give her his report. But instead, with the memories of the time he has just left behind, he says: "They have given me a name."

She frowns; he cannot see the frown on her perfect, pale forehead because of the thick black hair protecting it, but he knows it is there. "What do you mean, Timothy? They should not be aware of your heritage yet."

He kneels before her, gently taking hold of her feminine, ethereal hand. "No, they think I am you," he confesses.

"Me? Explain yourself."

"They think I am the baby growing inside Draco's body. They call me Joseph without knowing that the baby is in fact you, my dear sister."

She contemplated this for a while. "Really? 'Joseph', you say?"

"Yes, that was Harry's grandfather, the father of James Potter, I presume. I am guessing they changed the name slightly when they discovered you were female."

"Joz...," she says, slowly trying her own name in her mouth, letting it roll off her tongue like a half-melted sweet. "This is interesting, Timothy. Interesting indeed."

"So it is, my mistress."

_(To be continued...)_

"Boku o michibiku kasukana shiruetto..."

* * *

**_I just had to get another chapter out!! I got stuck in the story again myself, reading it through and getting sucked in myself... It's been so long since I last read any of this... :) (dreamily reminiscing) I laughed out loud when I read Draco's line "How dare you impersonate Harry impersonating me!?" Haha... brilliant. "Klockrent", as we say in Sweden... "clear as a bell ringing", I guess it'd translate as. But this takes a lot of time and energy since I have to read through everything before I can publish it... That's because I originally published it on another webpage which doesn't have all the editing functions that FF-net does, and also because I want to go over the text and correct any errors that I might have made while writing the story. (Although some errors are bound to go by my eye even now... One cannot see them all. Sigh.)_**

**_Thanks yet again for reading, and for bearing with me like this!  
Love, Piper_**


	33. And so the tables were turned, part 7

**Rating:** PG-17/NC-17/mpreg/OOC

**Pairing:** H/D

**Disclaimer:** All characters belong to J.K. Rowling, except for my creations: Piper, Tom, James, "Joseph", the mystery teens (Timothy and Joz), the Forgettes, Magami and Yousuke Sakanoue.

**Disclaimer II:** The nickname "Dracums" belongs to Golden.

**A/N:** The return of the Dark Lord or the rise of a new Dark Lord – it's optional. Or, well, no it isn't... but you can guess which alternative is the correct one. ;) And, even though it's a minor and ludicrous step, I have finally managed to learn to use the F-word without blushing in shame and embarassment. That's a huge step for me! If you wonder which F-word I am referring to, you will find the answer in a particular NC-scene... :p I made sure to use it a lot!

* * *

**And so the tables were turned... (7)**

That night, when Harry went upstairs to tuck James in and prepare himself for bed, he heard Draco's voice coming out of the nursery, and he stopped just outside the doorway, out of sight to the blonde. Listened to his lover as he spoke to the boy.

"Would you like me to read you a bedtime story?" Draco was asking James in an affectionate tone. "All right. I know a story that you will absolutely love, because it's a true story and it's a beautiful, happy story. Okay, do you want me to begin? Once upon a time there was a wizard called Harry Potter. He was a lonely boy, because his parents had died when he was very little – oh, about your age, actually – and he had no friends. Since he had no parents he had to live with his mother's sister and her family, and they didn't like Harry so they treated him really bad. For many years, Harry was an unhappy boy, but then one day a letter came for him. And this was a very special letter, you see, because it came with an owl through the chimney. Harry was really happy to receive this letter, because no-one had ever written to him before. But his Aunt and Uncle didn't like that Harry got mail, so they destroyed the letter and never let him read it."

Harry's heart skipped several beats and then began to pound like crazy when he heard Draco tell their son about his life with that mild, warm tone. There was so much love in his melodious voice, and it surprised Harry. This was not entirely his love for the boy, but also his love for Harry – and it was so great, so pure, so unconditional... That was when he realised that Draco had been telling the truth; he _did_ hate him because he loved him so much. Before, when they had been in Snape's guestroom, he had doubted this because it all seemed so absurd bearing Draco's behaviour in mind, but now he understood that the blonde really did love him unconditionally.

"Then one day, when Harry and his friends were training in the secret room, a funny little creature called Dobby came to see him. Dobby was a house-elf, and he worked at the school as a cleaner, and he had a terrible message to Harry. The awful wicked witch Umbridge was coming to catch him! As fast as they could, all the kids ran out of the secret room to save themselves from the wicked witch, but Harry didn't get away; there was another boy waiting for him outside, and that boy stopped Harry from running to safety. Do you know who that boy was?"

"No!" James said, and you could really hear how excited he was by the story in his exhilarated voice.

"That was your Daddy, James."

The small boy gasped. "Dat was you, Daddy?!"

"Yes, that boy was Daddy, but I was much younger then. I helped the wicked witch catch Harry, because I didn't know then that she was the wicked witch, and I didn't know how evil she was. It was almost as if she had me under her wicked spell and made me do things I didn't want to do. But after Daddy had helped the wicked witch he found out that Harry had done something really good for all the kids in that secret room, because he had been teaching them how to handle evil witches like Umbridge. Do you know what Daddy did then?"

"No, what did you do, Daddy? What did you do?"

"I asked Harry if it was true that he was teaching all those kids, and at first he didn't want to answer – and you understand why, don't you, James? He thought I was still that bad boy who caught him for the wicked witch, but Daddy had changed. I wasn't a bad boy anymore – I wanted Harry to help me be a good boy. So I kept asking him about it until he answered me, and when he said it was true I thought that was really brave of him. I asked him to teach me, too, and even though his friends didn't like me he agreed to teach me. Your father taught me everything I know, James. And he was the best teacher in the world, because he taught me every night even though he was very tired. It was our little secret. And as time went by we became really good friends, Harry and I, and after some time we fell in love. We promised each other to always be together, and we love each other more than people can normally love each other. And do you know why this is a happy story? Because we still love each other that much, we love each other a little more every day, and we're still together. And this is a happy, true story because our love resulted in you, James. You were born because Harry and I love each other so much, and your baby brother will also be born because we love each other so much."

"Wow, Daddy! Do you and Dada love each oder just as much as you love me?"

"Yes, Jimmy, just as much as we love you. Now sleep tight, honey. Call if you want anything, okay?"

Harry wished he could sneak off into their bedroom before Draco exited the nursery and found him standing there, because he was embarrassed about the tears that slowly fell from his eyes, but he was paralysed by the beauty of Draco's story. He had told James about their entire life together – and he had made it so beautiful.

When Draco exited the room and saw Harry standing there he stopped dead in his tracks and stared at him warily.

Still crying silently, Harry smile with gratitude. _Thank you for the story, Draco._

And right before Draco turned off the light in James's room and walked down the hall to the guestroom in the south wing, he smiled back.

* * *

"Where are you going?"

He stops just inside the archway and feels something twist in his stomach. It is the first time he has ever felt this way... and it is a strange feeling, indeed. He is rebelling, and he is reluctant to stay when she calls him; he needs to break free. For the first time in the two years he has been in her service, in her control, he feels an urgency to break free of her power and walk his own way. Yet, he cannot disobey her and ignore such a direct inquiry.

"I am going to stay in 2006 for a few days and help them through their crisis," he conveys, and a shiver travels down his spine, because he knows that this kind of behaviour pisses her off.

He can sense her quiet rage.

"Really?" she says. "I need you for other business today."

"I will return in a mere minute in your time," he promises, "I will not waste any of your time, my mistress. I will simply spend three days or so in their time and help them through a difficult time. Surely you can't refuse me that?"

He is being bold, very bold. This is a dangerous business.

"_NO!_" Her cry shatters his fragile confidence. "You will do as I say, servant!"

The ring around his neck begins to burn and shoot electric currents through his body. Screaming in pain, he falls to the floor, his hands clasped around the ring, and he desperately tries to claw it off. Pain... pain... why is she putting him through pain?

Gasping for breath, he says: "I am sorry, my mistress... I am sorry... I will not disobey again..."

She relents her power and the pain goes away.

His neck is aching, as is the rest of his body.

She reveals her eyes to him to show him exactly how disappointed she is, and he burns with shame. "I guess my spell wasn't powerful enough," she says, and directs her wand at him. "_Skuterius!_"

His eyes glaces over anew.

* * *

Draco deliberately went down to breakfast really late to avoid running into Harry in the kitchen or the dining room. Unfortunately that strategy did not work; Harry was still sitting at the dining room table absent-mindedly stirring in a cup of strongly smelling coffee. For a moment he stood in the doorway, wondering if he should go back upstairs and wait another half-hour, but then he decided it was best to face the music and went over to his usual seat. But he did not sit down. Not yet. He watched Harry for a few seconds, then he said: "You shouldn't drink that."

Harry looked up. "Hmm?"

"You shouldn't drink that," Draco repeated. "Caffeine's not good for the baby."

Harry looked down at his cup with a sheepish expression. "Oh. Right. I didn't drink it, I just..." His voice trailed off. Taking a deep breath, he straightened up in his chair and met Draco's gaze. There was fear in his grey eyes, but there was also a stubborn determination. Probably trying on a smile but instead managing to screw his face into a really freaky grimace, Harry said, "Hello, my name is Harry Potter and I'm a self-destructive self-hater with personality problems."

Draco just stared at him.

Harry leaned back in his chair. "Come on, this is where you say, 'Hello, Harry', and nod solemnly as if you understand perfectly well what I'm talking about."

Draco swallowed hard to prevent his blossoming anger from taking over his tongue. "The sarcasm isn't really helping your case, Harry," he warned in a low voice.

"Oh, but I'm not being sarcastic – I'm being totally honest with you for once," Harry protested in a conversational tone of voice.

Draco frowned. "What do you mean? You mean to tell me you've never been honest with me?"

A bitter, ironic chuckle escaped Harry. "In a way, yeah. I haven't even been honest with myself for the past eight or nine years, so how could I have fessed up and been honest to you about this? Just last night I realised that this goes beyond anything I can think of, and did the only right thing." He fixed his eyes on Draco's, and this time he was a little bit more successful with his attempt at smiling. "I just got out of the fire after a long conversation with Dr. Millard Windpipe at St. Mungo's, that's why I'm a bit contemplative right now..."

Draco nervously shifted his feet. "Mm, so? Look, I just dropped James off at the day care centre, and I'm hungry—"

"Good, 'cause I need to talk to you about something."

Draco instantly forgot about all his hostility and hurried to take a seat at the table. He eagerly leaned closer to Harry, curious to hear what he might want to discuss. "Yeah? Let's hear, then!"

Once again, Harry took a deep breath for comfort. "This isn't easy for me...," he said.

Draco noticed that he was shaking. Listening to his heart and not giving a fuck about his brain, he reached out his arm and took Harry's hand in his. Harry seemed puzzled over his initiative, but smiled with appreciation and gratitude at the small gesture. "It's all right," Draco said, "you can tell me, I won't judge you."

"I know you won't, but I will. You see... I lay awake all night thinking this through, and early this morning I made my decision. Your help won't be enough, it's already gone too far, so I paid a visit to a professional." He fell silent. A solitary tear glimmered in his eye.

Draco tightened his grip on his lover's hand. "Harry, do you mean to tell me that this doctor—"

"Yes, he's a psychiatrist. I told him about my problems, and we decided that I should come see him thrice a week for some time... it could take anything from three months to three years, really. At least, that's what he said."

They were both silent for a long while.

"So... you're in therapy, then?"

"Mm, yeah. Ironic, isn't it?"

Suddenly something hit him. "Wait a minute... you're in _my_ body! Don't tell me you've got into this doctor bloke's head that _I'm_ the one in need of therapy!?"

"No, of course not. I explained all that to him, too. At first I wanted to use some of Piper's Polyjuice Potion – do you know she's got like _a thousand_ forbidden potions stored up in _gallons_ in her room? – but she told me not to. Said it could hurt the baby. So I decided that the only option was to tell this doctor the whole truth, about the body switch and everything, and it was really bloody hard... I was in his office for over five hours, Dracums. But at least it's a start. I'm going to get better, I'm not going to let this illness destroy our relationship... and our family."

Draco partly withdrew his hand. "Illness, Harry? But you're not ill... are you?" he asked anxiously.

"Apparently I am," Harry said darkly. "I'm suffering from some sort of personality disorder. I didn't get all the medical explanations he gave me, but it's pretty much a result of my self-hatred. It's nothing serious or anything, it's just something that I need to work with for some time... and I'm really glad that I went to see him, because this is the first step towards making up with you."

Draco pulled away and rose from the table. He had to put a little distance between him and Harry. He went over to the windows and stood with his back to his lover.

"Does it scare you?" Harry asked forthrightly.

"Yes."

"I'm sorry. I never meant to be mentally ill. I'm just complicating everything, aren't I?"

"No, that's not why I'm scared," Draco objected. "I'm not scared because you're mentally ill – it's not your fault. I'm scared because I might lose you over this. If the Death Eaters find out that Harry Potter is mentally unstable... I don't even dare to think what they'd do to you..."

He had to blink away several tears.

The gardens were so beautiful at the end of summer.

"Draco... are you breaking through?"

Draco turned to look at him. "Huh?"

"Are you breaking through your hatred, I mean?" Harry elaborated patiently.

"Breaking through...? Maybe... a little... Gradually, every minute that passes, I hate you a little less. But it's a long way yet. I wish I could erase it all at once, but..."

Harry smiled. "And I wish I could erase mine just as fast." He looked down at his untouched coffee. "So, do you... do you tell James that bedtime story often?"

Draco jerked involuntarily. "It happens," he said warily.

"I love you for making my life so beautiful, Dracums," Harry murmured. "And I mean both the way you told that story... the story of my life... and the way you make my life beautiful with your mere presence. Just being with you... just talking to you, or holding you... it's enough to make my life meaningful and beautiful, and each smile you give me gives me another reason to live and prolongs my life another few seconds. I love you for being in my life, Dracums. Thank you."

Eyes watering, Draco went up to Harry and took his hands in his. Acting on an emotional impulse, he pulled Harry up on his feet and threw his arms around him. Burying his face deep down in Harry's currently long blond hair, he sobbed: "That was the most beautiful thing anyone's ever said to me. You just made a little more of that hatred go away."

Harry gratefully put his arms around Draco's back and held him tight. "Just by embracing me like this, you made some of my hatred vanish, too. Thank you."

"I love you, Harry."

"I love you, too, I love you so fucking much... don't let go... please, don't let go, I don't want you to let go, Draco... just hold me..."

"Don't worry, I don't intend to let go. This feels so bloody nice... right now I don't hate you at all."

"Then just hold me."

Harry was crying.

* * *

They struggled hard to make their relationship work again, and week by week it was slowly going back to normal. Draco had played Harry and contacted his professors at Auror School to tell them that he needed a break for personal and psychological reasons. They did not at all find it hard to believe that Harry Potter had finally given in to the enormous pressure he had as "the saviour of the magical people", and they much willingly gave him as much time off as he needed for his therapy. The other students would not know anything about it, of course; they were told that Harry had been given a special assignment from the Ministry and had to be away for a couple of months or so.

Slowly, gradually, the wounds in Draco's heart healed, and his hatred faded away. After a fortnight, Harry asked him out on a date as if they had never dated before. Draco found it incredibly comical – and sexy in a weird sort of way – and instantly consented. Harry took him to a quiet restaurant in London, Draco's first experience of a Muggle establishment. He actually kind of liked it. He thought the Muggles must be incredibly stupid because they used their hands for everything when there was magic, but he enjoyed the food and the romantic atmosphere. He did not at all mind the stares that some people gave them because they were so obviously a gay couple. Harry had gone to extreme lengths to cover up his pregnancy to avoid the exposure of their world, and Draco kept teasing him with comments like "How's your baby?" instead of saying "How's your food?", and "Getting down enough fuel for all two of you?"

After a month they had got used to being in each other's bodies, and Harry was doing really well with his therapy; he was slowly coming along, and in September he made his first breakthrough. "Draco!" he called as soon as he returned home.

The blonde immediately came into the parlour. "What's up?" he asked casually.

Harry was beaming with joy, something he had never done after one of his sessions with Dr. Windpipe, and it warmed Draco. "I didn't let Sirius down!" he said enthusiastically. "I actually helped him, Draco! I _did_ manage to keep my promise to him, didn't I? I cleared his name, just like I said I would, didn't I?"

Draco raised his eyebrows in astonishment. "Yeah, of course you did. You needed a whole month of therapy to come to that conclusion? I could have told you that four years ago."

Harry surprised him by sweeping him into his arms and off his feet and then danced around the room with the baffled blonde in total paralysis. "I know! But I wouldn't have listened four years ago. Draco, do you know what this means? I'm getting better! Hell, I feel wonderful! I haven't been this free of anxiety in over seven years – suddenly it's easy to breathe again! Oh, I love life! And I love you," he added and kissed Draco.

Draco was completely taken aback by this sudden display of joyous providence, but after a while he found himself and laughed together with Harry, enjoying the moment to the fullest. He pulled his arms tighter around Harry's neck and affectionately kissed his left cheek.

There were many moments like that after that. Eventually they were back in some sort of every-day behaviour, and they could even joke and tease each other again. Draco felt great – invigourated and born again – because his hatred was completely gone, and Harry was doing great, too; he had started to come to turns with his past. But there was still a big question mark around his coming to turns with the pregnancy, though...

"You know that you have to go to the maternity ward for another ultrasound tomorrow, right?" Draco asked him one morning.

Harry moaned. "Nooo... I don't want to go there with all those women there... it's embarrassing..."

"No, it's not embarrassing," Draco reassured, "they're all very nice and very understanding. You could discuss your tender nipples with them 'cause I'm tired of hearing you nagging about them."

"As if! I'm not mentioning _any_ of my body parts in a woman's presence!"

"Then don't. But you still need to go. For Joseph."

Harry pondered it a moment. "Yeah, you're right, babe. Better do it for Joseph."

Draco spent most of the day cleaning, then he picked up James at the day care centre and spent the rest of the day playing with the boy. Piper, whom had kept mostly to herself the few days she was actually at the Manor (she was spending more and more time in Japan with Yousuke), occasionally showed up to ask him how he was doing, and the twelth time she did so he told her off for being in his way and getting on his nerves, so the next time she came to bother him she asked how he _wasn't_ doing instead.

Harry brought a surprise that evening. When Draco went to meet him by the fireplace in the den he gave him a bouquet of beautiful red roses. Draco gasped and swiftly retrieved the flowers, sniffed on them happily, and counted them. "A whole dozen, Harry!" he said, impressed.

"Certainly, nothing less is good for my partner in life," Harry joked. "A dozen means claiming your love for someone, right?"

"Yes. Oh, Harry, they're lovely... thank you." He kissed him fleetingly and went to put the flowers in a vase. They sat in the den that night, just talking... and they talked for six hours. Way past midnight, they finally got up, exhausted after a long day, and went upstairs to turn in. They both stopped in the doorway to the nursery to check on James. The boy was sleeping soundly, not a worry in his face, and he looked so peaceful. Draco met Harry's gaze. They smiled at each other, silently giving their thanks to their wonderful little family.

When they had brushed their teeth and everything, Draco ackompanied Harry into the master bedroom, because it felt natural to do so now. They had had separate bedrooms for over a month and never said a word about sharing a bed; they were both willing to let everything happen in due time. So when Draco closed the door behind them and stripped out of his clothes, Harry said nothing. They both knew that it was time, and it felt wonderful to be together again. Draco snuggled down beside Harry and put his arms around him, resting his chin on Harry's shoulder. Without a word, they fell asleep.

* * *

Draco lay on his back on their bed with a huge, happy smile playing on his lips. It had felt so good to be sleeping in the same bed as Harry again, and he savoured the memory of it while he waited for Harry to get ready in the bathroom. Giggling in a kinky sort of way, he put a hand on his stomach and wondered what it would be like to make love in Harry's body. Somewhat to his surprise, he discovered that he actually _wanted_ to make love to Harry. He had thought that it would take a few weeks more to reach that stage, but he seemed to cope faster at the end.

"Ow, ow, ow, ow!" he heard Harry say in the bathroom.

"Are you okay in there?" he called teasingly.

"Yeah, I'm a'right," Harry called back. Then: "Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow, OW!"

"Wha're you doing in there?"

"I'm shaving my chest, but these fucking boobs are in the way and they hurt like Hell!"

Draco laughed. "Do you have to do that now? It must be really painful to shave when they're so sore..."

"Yeah, it is," Harry said matter-of-factly. "OW, _Hell_!"

Draco shook his head in resignation. "Harry – you're crazy." Feeling naughty, he slowly moved his hand further down... this was a whole new way of exploring Harry's body...

"What?" Harry called from the bathroom. "I'm not crazy – I just want you to look good for me."

Draco burst out in laughter. "_What?! _You want me to _look good_ for you?! That is _sooo_ cheesy!"

He imagined Harry blushing crimson.

"I mean... I want to look good in you... no, what I mean is... I want to look good in your body for you, or something like that... Hell, I don't know what I mean, I just hate hairy chests, and screw if it hurts."

"That's great, Harry," Draco said, fingering on the top button in Harry's newest pair of jeans, which he was currently wearing. "Harry, come and make love to me," he pleaded boldly.

It was awfully quiet in the bathroom for a long, long time.

Draco was getting impatient. "Harryyyy..."

"No."

"What do you mean, 'No'? Here I'm finally willing to take the final step back into paradise, and you say no? That is so mean..." he mocked affectionately.

"I don't feel like it with these bombs ready to explode any second – they hurt," he said firmly.

Pouting, Draco rolled over onto his stomach. "But you just said you wanted to look good in me... don't tell me that wasn't an invite. You want me."

"No, honestly, I don't. No offense, babe."

"None taken – yet. Come on, Harry... don't try to fool me into believing that you're not feeling the least bit horny, because you're _always_ horny during that stage of pregnancy. At least I was..."

Harry laughed. "Yeah, I am horny, but I still don't want to do anything about it. Sorry."

"Hmpf. Then you better be prepared to take care of it all on your own in the future," Draco stated in mock offense, trying a new strategy to get his way. He was _sooo_ sexually frustrated...

Harry was searching for something in the bathroom cabinets. "What do you mean?" he asked in lack of understanding.

"I'm talking about masturbation," Draco said simply.

"Masturbation?" Harry echoed. "No way! That's like cheating!"

"It is not!" Draco protested.

"In my world it is," Harry persisted.

"Oh... in that case I've cheated on you thousands of times already, and I'm about to do it again if you don't come here faster than lightning because I'm _reeeaaally_ starting to get impatient here."

A lot of weird bang!s and thud!s came from the bathroom, then he could hear Harry's hurried footsteps coming towards him in the hallway. The next second he appeared in the doorway, naked except for a pair of black, tight boxers. "You _what_?!" he breathed. "You've _masturbated_?!"

Draco yawned and rolled back onto his back. "Not today, no, but I have loads of times in the past, yeah," he informed Hysterical Harry. "Boy, you look really attractive in that belly... especially when you're upside-down..."

But Harry would not let go of the subject. "You haven't masturbated in my body, have you?" he demanded to know.

"No, but I'm bloody tempted, you know. You should be glad that I've been able to keep my hands off your beautiful, flawless body all this time I've been walking around in it."

"I am! Believe me, I am!"

Draco pouted again and made quite an effort to look sensuous and inviting to Harry. "Will you come make love to me now, Hawwy? I'm craving for you here, an innocent little creature like me... I need you... you could use me all day if you liked, Harry – I'm yours."

Finally Harry gave in and came to him, crawled up to him. Draco instantly captured his mouth with his and put an arm around his neck, eagerly urging him on by pressing his crotch hard against Harry's. It felt oddly good to caress Harry's bumpy belly, although it was in fact his own, and the fact that they expected a child together turned him on so fucking much. He directed Harry's hand to the buttons in his jeans. Harry carefully unbuttoned the jeans while simultaneously kissing, licking, biting at the blonde's nape, eliciting several hoarse semi-cries of anticipation from Draco.

Draco bucked and tensed when Harry gently pulled down the jeans over his hips and deliberately massaged his groin before pulling the trousers off entirely. Oh, he always had to tease him... but it felt so good to be teased, so good... He lifted his head off the bed and roughly pressed his lips to Harry's. Then he made a fleeting gesture with his right hand, and said, "Boxers, boxers..." Harry smiled smugly and did something he had never done before – believe it or not. He backed up a bit and bent down so his face was in line with Draco's groin and gently took a hold of the elastic of the boxers with his teeth, and slowly – _growling!_ – began to pull them off like some animal! Naturally he experienced some difficulty when he was going to pull the boxers off Draco's rock hard erection and had to twist his head in an odd direction to manage it, because he was dead serious on doing it with his mouth and teeth only. When he had finally succeeded to get them off, he stopped for a while, and still smiling mischievously, referring to a certain limb, he said: "Wow! Is that really how big I am?"

Draco laughed. "Shut up!" He firmly forced Harry up from there so they were face to face. Fixing his eyes on Harry's with an obscene glint in them, he said: "Why do you think I like it with you on top?"

Harry blushed. "You're embarrassing me... I'm not _that_ fantastic, am I?"

"Oh, baby, fantastic's just your first name. But now move over, I'm gonna be on top this time. I just have to try out your body, baby. And besides... with that belly you won't get far, takes some getting used to before you know how to do it."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, stop talking. Are we gonna talk or fuck?"

Draco grinned teasingly. "What's this word I hear you use? You've never said 'fuck' before, Harry."

"Do I have to say it again to make you do it?! Fuck, fuck, fuck! _Fuck!_ There – happy? Fuck."

"You're so sexy when you say 'fuck'... say it again..."

"Fuck."

Draco desperately pressed his lips against Harry's, rolling them both over and ending up on top, just where he wanted to be. He could feel the blood rush through Harry's body, and it was as if he could feel both their hearts beat like a crazed horse, a wonderful, wonderful feeling. Without further ado, he pushed inside Harry, and the moment he did so both their souls broke through the barricades to the physical world and they magically, miraculously seemed to change back. One moment he looked down at silky silver hair – the next he was looking at messy, fly-away black hair. Harry moaned and rose to receive Draco's thrusts – _FLASH!_ they were back in each other's bodies – Draco shifting his support to make it more comfortable for them both – _FLASH!_ – and their eyes met in a trembling moment that seemed to have stopped time altogether. There seemed to be an inevitable and immensely strong energy sparkling between them, and when he looked into Harry's eyes like that he felt a strong surge of desire pass through him, and rocked his hips faster. Harry gasped. "Dracums! Oh, God, Dracums! Please—" _FLASH!_ "—yes! Yes! Yes!"

Harry hardly cried out loud like that – it was mostly Draco who cried out in ecstacy, really – so Draco seized the moment and rocked faster, thrust harder, bent down to nibble at Harry's nape and earlobe. Beneath him, Harry began to tremble – _FLASH!_ – and he desperately grabbed Draco's arm, his eyelids fluttering really sexy-like. "Oh, God, Draco... Draco… give it to me, trash me!" A long, guttural screeching escaped his throat, and his grip firmed; he bucked and slid on his back on the white sheets, writhing in exquisite ecstacy. Draco almost lost his breath and had to slow down for a moment not to faint, but Harry immediately lifted his head off the bed and gave him a pleading, desperate, and comically hungry look. "No, no, don't stop, don't stop! _Haaaaah_... I'm so close, so close... baby, don't stop, I'm... I'm... _haah_..."

_FLASH!_ – Harry was blond again. But Draco did not care; their looks did not matter; it did not matter that they were in each other's bodies; what mattered was that they were there, and that they were there together. With that realisation in mind, he gave all he had to take Harry exactly where he wanted to go – and to take himself there as well, of course. Had it not been for the fact that Draco was swiftly closing in on orgasm, as well, he probably would have laughed out loud at Harry's cheesy, semi-kinky commentary, but being as it were he was much too occupied with his own state of pleasure to notice fully. When Harry finally came, he screamed like he had never screamed before, and if Piper or anyone else at the Manor had ever doubted if they would ever make love again they would have their answer right there and then. "Oh, Dracums, Dracums, yeah! Fuck, Dracums, fuck, yes, take it home!"

Exhausted, they lay splayed on the bed and tried to catch their breaths. A broad smile came to Draco's lips. "This was bloody wonderful, Harry. Don't you think so? Man, it's been too long... you could really feel that month of celibacy in the energy, don't you think?" He snuggled up closer to Harry and nibbled a little on his earlobe. "Didn't you think it was bloody wonderful?"

Harry chuckled. "Yeah, bloody well was," he agreed.

Draco partly rose into a sitting position, his face lit up with expectation. "Then what do you say we go at it again?!"

Harry stared at him in shock. "What, now?"

"Yeah! Why not?"

"Draco, I'm sorry, but I'm all beat. You might be full of energy, but I'm pregnant here and I don't have any more energy. I want to make love to you all night, all day tomorrow, five days in a row even, but I can't possibly perform again. Sorry."

Draco lay back down and put his arms around Harry. Sighed happily. "That's okay, I'll give you five minutes to breathe, then," he said.

Harry jerked. "You're only willing to give me _five minutes_ to collect myself?!" he exclaimed.

"No, I'm just kidding. To be honest I don't have enough energy, either. Let's just lie here and cuddle for a moment, all right?"

Harry buried his nose in Draco's hair. "I'll cuddle with you for all of eternity, babe."

For a few wonderful minutes, Draco thought back at their act of love with happy, warm, tingly feelings in the pit of his stomach. He was so glad that they had finally reached the last level of trust again. It had been hard work, but it had all been worth it. Then suddenly, he remembered Harry's screaming and chuckled to himself.

Harry snuggled closer. "Wha'?"

Draco decided to have fun with him for a while. "Harry, 'give it to me'?" he asked sceptically. "What kind of demand is that?"

Harry lifted his head slightly to meet his gaze. "Excuse me?"

"That's what you said when you were all ecstatic over my expert moves."

"I've never said that," Harry protested in confusion.

"Oh, yes you did! Just before, when we were making love! You said 'Draco, give it to me, trash me!' God, Harry, you're such a slut!"

Harry sat up, his face red with offense. "I am not! And I'm sure I didn't say it like that!"

"Yeah, you did! You said all sorts of corny stuff!"

"Did not!"

"'Fuck, Dracums, fuck! Take it home!'" Draco shrieked and almost laughed his guts out.

Harry was redder than red. "Did I really say all that?" he asked cautiously.

"Yes! Yes! Yes!" Draco replied, and laughed even harder.

"That is so embarrassing," Harry said, and would not look at him. "And the door's open and everything! Why didn't you close the door?"

"Me? You were the one who came in here from the bathroom – I was just lying here on the bed all innocently trying to look sexy enough for you to jump me!"

"So the door was my bad then. But... man, I've never yelled like that before. And I wasn't even aware of it myself. Must be your body influencing me somehow."

"Yeah, go on, just blame everything on my body, why don't you?"

"Sorry, I didn't mean it like that. I just... being in your body... maybe I finally found whatever I needed to totally let go and completely let myself be swept away and live in the moment. Or something."

Draco kissed his roughed hair. "I like that explanation better. Now come lay down with me, you sex beast!"

* * *

Next morning's mail was late, and Harry happened to be in the den when Hedwig flew in threw the open window. He greeted his owl, patted her head, and took the letters and the Prophet and went over to one of the cosy armchairs to skim through them. When his eyes fell on the front page of the Prophet, he froze. "Draco!" he called urgently. When the blonde did not immediately respond, he got anxious and called again. "Draco!"

The blonde appeared in the archway from the parlour, a frown on his rosy face. "Where's the fire?"

Harry could not stop staring at the Prophet. His hands were shaking. "Draco... he's back," was all he could manage.

The frown on Draco's forehead deepened into a scowl. "Who?"

Finally Harry found the strength to raise his gaze and look at Draco. "Pywercaseley. They brought him back."

Draco jerked. "Brought him back? How?"

Harry read aloud: "'An urgent message arrived at the Prophet's main office in London early this morning with a direct demand to publish it in today's newspaper, and it is our opinion – as well as the Minister Cornelius Fudge's – that it is to be taken seriously. The Dark Lord known as Pywercaseley was killed by Harry Potter, also known as The Boy Who Lived and who is living with Draco Malfoy, sole heir of the Malfoy line and the person who freed the world of You-Know-Who, little over a month ago, but the Dark Lord has now returned to his throne. Apparantly Death Eaters in his closest circle used extremely advanced dark magic to bring Lord Pywercaseley back from the dead, and this morning they succeeded. The Dark Lord's first words when he woke up from his long sleep are said to have been 'I will kill that Potter!.'" Harry looked up at Draco. "Do you know what this means?"

Draco was silent for a long while. Then he nodded. "Yes, I understand perfectly well. He's going to come after us, and this time he knows that Harry Potter is protected from the death curse—"

"—which means that he'll focus on the person he thinks is Draco Malfoy," Harry concluded.

Rain started to fall on the ground and hammered persistently on the window panes.

"And that person is you."

Harry swallowed hard. "Yes, I'm Draco now. And my guess is that I'm not protected in your body."

"And since I don't know how to control this protection – whatever it is – neither am I," Draco stated. "What do we do now?"

"I don't know. I honestly don't know."

Draco sank down into a green armchair.

Piper leapt into the room, her whole appearance telling them that this was a happy, happy Piper-day. Too bad it was not a happy day for them all... "Hey! What's up with the sullen faces, laddies?" she asked and stopped just in front of them.

Harry threw her the paper. His head had begun to throb, so he did not really feel like reciting it again. He expected Piper's smile to fade away when she read the story about Pywercaseley's remarkable return, but instead her smile just broadened. "Ah, perfect!" she said. "I know exactly how we're going to stop him this time! This is _perfect_ – superb!" She made a queer little dance.

Harry and Draco stared at her incredulously. "And how exactly are you going to do that?" Draco inquired. "We already tried once, and _that_ obviously wasn't enough!"

She waved dismissively at him. "Oh, don't bother your little gay brain with things that are beyond you!" she mocked. "I have the _perfect_ spell for this! My guess is it will enable us to defeat this so-called Dark Lord once and for all!"

She made to leap out of the room, but Draco called after her. "Oy! What do you mean 'you have a spell'?! Don't you dare poison me with your potions again!"

She stopped in the doorway to the dining room and looked back in at them. "Oh, don't worry, Drakie-poops! I'm going to try it on _myself_ this time! It's perfectly safe, I promise you! Just wait here, I'll go get it from my room!" She skipped away.

So all they had to do was wait for her to return.

"Now," she said when she was back with a small piece of parchment, "let's see here..."

"Wait," Draco said. "What exactly is this spell supposed to do? Do we have to hide before you say it? Will it explode?"

Piper laughed. "No, no, no! It won't explode. Not like you did yesterday morning, anyway..." Harry blushed and looked away. "No, this is a Power Enhancement Spell that I created some time ago. It will multiply my powers as many times as possible and make me invincible! Or, well, that's the thought, anyway... Now, let's see if it works!" Pointing her wand at herself, she read aloud from the parchment: "Ancient guardians hear my words, bring me the power to save the world!"

Nothing exploded.

For once Piper had managed to keep that promise.

But what happened might have been worse than an explosion. Because it was not Piper's powers that were multiplied – it was Piper herself!

One moment they were looking at Draco's older sister... and the next there were eight of them.

_(To be continued...)_

"Boku o michibiku kasuka-na shiruetto..."

* * *

**_Whoaa..! I LOVE this story!! X3 Since it's been like three years since I wrote this, it's as if I'm reading it for the first time, and I love it! (happy, delighted grin) I really have to continue updating this! Yaaaay!_**

**_R&R, my friends! R&R!  
Love, Piper_**


	34. And so the tables were turned, part 8

**Rating:** NC-17/mpreg/OOC

**Pairing:** H/D

**Disclaimer:** All the characters belong to J.K. Rowling, except for my creations: Piper, Tom, James, "Joseph", the Forgettes, the mystery teens (Joz & Timothy), Magami and Yousuke Sakanoue.

**Disclaimer II:** The nickname "Dracums" belongs to my friend Golden.

**Author's note (read 'tempting questions'):** Is Draco going to totally freak out with _eight_ stupid sisters on his hand?! Will Piper's "ingenius" plan work at all – or will it be a total flop? Will Timothy be able to break free of Joz's spell when his father returns from the war? Will Piper be able to keep her dear Yousuke away until she has gotten rid of the clones? But what is Cho doing? And why is she breaking into Piper's room?! Also, who would have thought that Harry was a closet masochist in bed? (roar of laughter)

* * *

**And so the tables were turned... (8)**

One, two, three, four...

No, this could not be happening, it was just a dream, just a dream...

A nightmare! He had _eight_ sisters, for fuck's sake! _Eight!_ And they all looked the same! He did not even know which one of them was the real Piper!

_Oh, man, I'm gonna faint_, Draco thought miserably.

_Thump._

He looked to his side. Why hadn't he fainted?

"Harry?"

Harry was lying flat on his back on the floor, a shocked expression on his face. Draco squatted beside him to take a closer look. "Harry, you fainted for me?" he asked, but of course there was no answer. Unsure of what you were supposed to do when somebody had fainted – it was always _him_ blacking out – he checked if Harry was breathing. With that done, he rose to his feet again and faced all of Piper's faces. "Okay, who of you is the real one?" he demanded.

"_I am!_" all of them shrieked, raising their arms like a certain Hermione Granger used to during their school days...

So that did not work. Had to try another strategy, then. "Okaaay... so maybe I should just go to Japan and get Yousuke so _he_ can figure out who of you is his _real_ girlfriend – 'junsui no kanojo', isn't it? Great, I'll just do that..."

One of the Piper's gave a shrill shriek. "Oh no! Yousuke! I have to tell him not to come here! What if he comes to visit and meets one of the clones?! There's no telling what could happen!"

Draco immediately pointed at the Piper speaking. "_YOU!_ Three steps forward _now_! The rest of you, stay where you are until I tell you otherwise!"

One of the clones began to cry. "Wuuaaaah, Draco you're always so mean to meeee!" she wailed.

"Yeah, yeah, what else is new?" he said impatiently. He turned to his real sister. "Come over here, I have an idea."

She lightened up. "Oh, you do? What is it?"

He took out his wand. "We need to present them with different kinds of clothing. We have to decide on some sort of dress code or colour code in order to tell you apart from each other – especially the clones. So you stay here, and _I'll_ decide who will be who, okay? Dress yourself up all in black, all right?"

Piper frowned. "Why black?"

"It's a neutral colour." He went over to the first clone. "All right. Do you know what just happened here? Because Piper over there tried to multiply her powers, not herself..."

The Piper clone before him lit up like a light bulb. "Oh, oh, oh, I know this one! I know this one! Her spell backfired and instead of multiplying her powers she made all her personal qualities come alive in the shape of another Piper! You know, all the different sides to her..."

Draco raised an eyebrow in bafflement and studied the clones one by one. "There are seven sides to my sister?" he asked.

"Oh, yes! She is multifaceted, you see! And I'm her gay self!"

Draco swirled around at the word 'gay'. His eyes huge with astonishment, he breathed, "_What?!_"

The clone laughed nervously. "Oh, sorry, I didn't mean gay as in 'homosexual', I meant gay as in 'glad', or 'merry'. You know – genki!"

"Genki?"

"Yeah – genki! A Japanese word for someone who's very energetic, very merry, and very vital – you know, genki!" That annoying laughter again.

Draco took a step away from her. "Okaaay... so you'll be Genki Piper, then. And I think a clown costume would suit you perfectly. Collu—"

"_No!_" She desperately grabbed his arm, and her eyes were watering with fear. "Please, anything but that, I'm afraid of clowns!"

"Piper's gay self is afraid of clowns?!"

"Yes, I hate them!"

"All right, how about spots then?"

The smile returned to her face. "Oooh, I loooove spots!"

"Then spots it is," Draco decided. "Colluthia green spots!" Genki Piper was now clothed in a pair of green cotton trousers with white spots and a white cotton shirt with green spots. Very distasteful, but she seemed happy with it. Or, rather, she seemed GENKI with it.

Beside Genki Piper was obviously Stupid Piper, because she understood nothing but simple sentences. It was even more intellectually stimulating to have a conversation with James. Stupid Piper was given a T-shirt featuring the words "FAILING ENGLISH? BUT THAT'S UNPOSSIBLE!"

Then there were Sensitive Piper – the crying one – and she got a pink dress with cute little armpuffs and loads of needlepoint details and white kneesocks and bunny slippers. She was so happy over her new beautiful dress that she ran out of there crying. _Such_ a wuss.

After her, Draco had to make a great adjustment of his attitude, because the new clone regarded him with wary, calculating eyes, but also with a certain degree of self-righteous superiourity, arrogance, and authority. "Who are you, then?" he asked her in his best Malfoy-voice.

The smile forming on her lips was annoyingly smug and self-secure. "You couldn't figure that out for yourself, Drakie-poops? I'm the true Malfoy that resides within Piper, deeply repressed for twenty-three years, which makes me twice as strong as her in this reality," she informed him without blinking even once.

Draco resisted the urge to gag. Instead, he twisted his wrist and said, "Piercings and leather, then?"

"Oh, puwleeeaaaze, give me a tattoo too while you're at it, Drakie-beans..."

"Shut up and go drown yourself in the bathtub. Who's next?"

"I am, you gorgeous, sexy stud!"

Draco stiffened. Oh, no. Not that. Please, not that!

When he turned around he found that one of the clones was looking at him with innocent, sexually hungry eyes, her right index finger in her mouth to look more welcoming and inviting. Shivers travelled down his spine. He'd had a feeling this personality might show up...

"What's wrong, Draco? Don't you find me extremely sexy? Don't you want me?"

"Like Hell I do! You disgust me more than my dead grandmother would! Now take your fucking jeans and run off!"

He knew that his sister had a well hidden kinky side to her – it was evident in the way she always teased them with little comments about their lovemaking, which indicated that she always listened eagerly as soon as she heard the least bit of suspicious sounds coming out of their bedroom – and he also knew that Piper was very disappointed that she was his sister, otherwise she "would have jumped him long ago". That was her exact words, and they totally disgusted him. So now there was a Slutty Piper walking around the Manor wanting him. Great. Just great. Harry would go ballistic when he woke up. But maybe Draco could take advantage of that?

He forced Slutty Piper out of the den and turned to the last two. One of them was Piper's constant hunger – she was always eating something – and since this one was bound to get fat pretty soon when she was no longer a part of the real Piper and could not be restrained, he told her to wear anything she liked as long as it was purple or violet or lilac.

The last one was the least expected one – the most surprising one. She was the smart one. And 'smart' was merely her first name, because Draco did not understand a word she was saying. He decided to call her Einstein Piper and gave her checkered trousers and a turtleneck just because she was so boring. To add the finishing touch, he also gave her huge square glasses.

When he was finally finished with the bloody clones, the real Piper came to his side. "Gee, bro, I never thought you could be so calm and collected. How come?"

Draco pointed at the floor. "Hello, duh! Harry fainted! At least one of us had to be smart and do something about it! And don't take this personally, but Stupid Piper and Genki Piper have kind of taken over you entirely."

"I know – that's how I like it. Shouldn't you wake up Harry or something? I'll handle Yousuke, and then I'll put tabs on the clones. See ya in five."

Draco sighed.

And it was on again...

* * *

Harry returns from the front after more than two years' war and is surprised to find that the Manor is completely quiet. For more than a year, when he has fought for the Ministry, all he has wished for is to once again hear the buzz and the life of the Manor. He has even longed to hear Piper's incessant questions about everything and nothing – but there is not a single sound. Everything is quiet – too quiet. Not even little Touma running around the rooms like he has done for the past decade or so. Worried that the Death Eaters have finally found a way through the Protection Shield and got to his family, Harry runs up the stairs, screaming, "_Pipeeeer!_ _Jooee!_ _Timmy, anyone!_"

A movement in his periphery catches his attention, and when he swirls around he finds that Timothy is standing there waiting for him. The boy has a queer glint in his green eyes that sends shivers down Harry's spine. There is something... almost animal in them. Primitive. But at the same time his eyes are dead. Clearing his throat, Harry says, "Timothy, God you scared me! Where is everyone? Where's Piper? Where're all the kids? The twins and Natsumi and... Touma. Where is everyone? Have they gone back to Japan?" No answer came; Timothy was just staring at him with those expressionless, dead eyes. It was eerie. "Timothy, why are you so quiet? Why is _everything_ so quiet? Where's your sister?"

The boy jerks noticably at the mentioning of his sister. For a moment there is life in his eyes; such an utter and fragile pleading. "Don't let her—" Then his face contorts in pain, and the deadness returns to his eyes. "Forgive me, I must have lost myselt in thoughts for a moment. What was it that you asked me?"

Harry frowns. Something is wrong, utterly wrong. Is it possible that the Death Eaters have come to the house and put his son under the Impediment Curse? But surely Timothy must be strong enough to fight it... No, he could not be under the influence of an Unforgivable Curse. "Where are they?" he therefore asks the boy again.

Timothy is silent for three seconds or so before replying. "They have left this place," he says in his monotonous, low voice.

The frown deepens into a scowl. "Left? What do you mean? Did they go back to Japan?"

Yet again, the boy is quiet for some time before opening his mouth. And when he does so, the words coming out of it are puzzling indeed. "I cannot tell you— They have left."

The boy is freaking him out. Surveying the deserted hallways on both sides of him, he begins to wonder if something worse than the Death Eaters have entered his home. "Where's Blaise?" he inquires, anxiety rising from deep in his heart.

The longest silence yet. The boy's eyes changes anew, and there is some sort of emotion in them. It is almost as if he pities Harry. "Do you not remember? Have you forgotten what happened?"

Harry jerks. "Happened? What are you talking about?"

The pity in the boy's eyes is slowly breaking his heart.

Sighing, Timothy lowers his gaze. "Blaise died seven years ago."

And suddenly the truth hits him with the force of a sledgehammer.

Blaise was murdered, only 4 years old... the poor baby... and that was the year before Draco...

"_No!_" Harry sinks down to the floor. "No, it can't be true... please tell me it's not true..."

"I am afraid I could not do so without lying – and I do not lie, Harry."

Harry hugs himself. Tears are running down his face. "_Draco_..."

"I am going to save him," Timothy suddenly claims with pride in his voice. Almost immediately after uttering those words, he screams out in pain. Turns back into his "normal" self. Gazing down the hallway behind him, he says, "She is calling me."

He prepares to leave.

Harry stands up. "Wait! You still, after all these years, haven't told me who 'she' is, Tim. Who is calling you? Who is controlling you? Because that's what she's doing, isn't it? That's why you always seem so... dead. Emotionless. She's controlling you, making you do things against your will, isn't she?"

The boy looks stricken by pain. "I am so sorry, father. I will make everything up to you, everything that she's done to you. I will find a way to make it up to you, I promise." And then he vanishes before Harry's eyes.

What has happened to his boy while he has been away? And where is everyone? For some reason he does not think that the silence means that Piper has taken her family and moved to Japan – the silence means that they are all dead.

* * *

Oddly enough, all the clones left them alone pretty much all the time – well, except for Genki Piper, of course. Genki Piper seemed to be the one who always went all "Draco! Draco! Draco! I love you my dear brother! How are you doing??" all the time, and since the real Piper was really doing a great job 'collecting her forces' – which meant training her clones – they had the entire Manor all to themselves. Piper had decided to conduct the training outside in the lovely autumn weather, so they had all marched down to the lake half a kilometre away. And since James was still at the magical day-care centre...

Harry was lying on his back on their favourite couch in the parlour, and Draco was semi-lying, semi-sitting beside him. The reason why they loved that couch so much was because it was so wide; two people could easily lie next to each other on it. Draco was currently drawing funny patterns on Harry's tummy and chest with his fingertip.

Looking up at him, Harry said, "I love it when you look like that."

Draco met his eyes. "What – when I look like you?"

Harry laughed. "No, silly! When you look so absent-minded. It's like you go into some sort of inner, creative world. It's sexy. _You're_ sexy."

Draco leaned down and kissed Harry, their tongues intertwining in a hot explosion of emotions. "We're all alone here...", he said with an obscene smile, and put his hand on Harry's crotch.

"Yeah, but I wanna do something different today..."

"Oh, really? And what might that be?"

"Please you orally."

Draco raised an eyebrow. "Oh-hoo, is that what you want? Well, I'm not complaining... give it to me, baby!" He slid down on his back, his head resting against the arm of the couch, expectantly waiting with that obscene smile widening noticably when Harry set about to unzip his trousers.

With great awareness of details, Harry pulled Draco's trousers and boxers down to his knees, and since Draco was only mildly aroused he massaged the blonde's groin – something that always worked. As soon as he had succeeded to get an erection out of his lover, he took it in his mouth and began to work it. He tried to be as variable as possible, both in motion and in speed, sometimes with more tongue – sometimes carefully stroking with the ridge of his teeth – sometimes sucking hard and swiftly – sometimes slowly and softly. Soon Draco started to wriggle and writhe; the obscene smile that had been playing on his lips was changed for an open-mouthed expression of pleasure, and he gasped for breath. Harry, who loved to see Draco like that, moved his lips and tongue faster over Draco's erection, and he too got more excited as the blonde hardened.

"Oh, God, oh, God," Draco breathed and took a firm grip on the fabric in the couch with both hands. His face had flushed a healthy rose-red, and a light film of sweat was covering it. Harry sucked harder as he simultaneously massaged the blonde's groin with eager, hot hands; he was a true prestidigitator. "Hah, Harry..." Draco shouted incoherently, his hands tightening around the couch fabric until his knuckles had turned alabaster white, he bucked and put his crotch up as a reaction to his imminent orgasm. "I'm – I'm – I'm coming!" Harry knew that Draco was warning him in case he did not want to swallow, but he did not care. He gladly took it, because he did not find it disgusting or anything.

Draco drew a few quick, shallow breaths and sank down on the couch, exhausted but euphoric. Almost as an afterthought, he pulled his underwear and trousers back up. Harry threw himself down beside him and took his hand in his; raised it to his lips and kissed it. "Was I any good?" he teased.

Draco laughed shortly. "Hoo, you are a Hell of a sucker! And the good kind, I tell you!" He flew up into a sitting position. "Now it's my turn to—"

He was interrupted by the unmistakable sound of a door being opened followed by many excited voices, but since they were all Piper's voice in different moods and pitches it sounded as if she had an echo. Draco peered over the back of the couch with a sullen frown on his forehead. Black-clad Piper stopped when she noticed him there. "Oh, hey Draco! Were you sleeping?"

Harry sat up, too, deciding to grant her that unspoken confession.

She gasped and put her hand over her mouth, feigning shock but they could both see that she was obscenely pleased. "Did you two just fuck?!" she exclaimed.

Draco snorted importantly. "For your information – Harry and I don't 'fuck', we _make love_!" he told her with genuine pride. "And no, we didn't – Harry gave me a blowjob." Directly after saying that, he gasped himself and turned to meet Harry's gaze. "Did I just say that out loud?"

Harry was grinning teasingly, obviously amused. "Yeah, you did, Dracums."

Draco bit his lower lip. "Sorry. I'm just going to hide and be embarrassed now." He slid down out of sight to the Pipers.

* * *

Cho was boiling inside – she was so damn furious with him! It had taken her several weeks – well, over a month, really – to even figure out why she was so angry and with whom, but now she understood what she had to do to get the anger out of her system once and for all. She was furious with Draco Malfoy for stealing Harry away from her five years ago – _she_ could have been the one to give birth to everyone's favourite magical baby! _She_ could have been Harry's wife by now! But no – Draco had to ruin that for her! And now he had to pay.

Harry had to pay, too. He had allowed himself to be stolen away from her – to be seduced and cursed by that male Malfoy wench. Now they both had to pay.

She had summoned her best friend Lavender Brown for support and advice in the matter, and they were currently sitting on the floor of her living room with her old size 2 pewter cauldron between them. The beginning of a potion was brewing and steaming in it.

"What exactly are we doing?" Lavender asked. She had lost contact with her old best friend Parvati three years ago when Parvati moved to India to study there to become a Healer, and Cho had accidentally run into Lavender at St Mungo's two years ago. They had swiftly become really close friends.

Cho stirred in the potion. "A Sleeping Potion," she replied. "I'm going to lure Draco into drinking it and have a little chat with Harry in private."

Lavender gave her a sarcastic look. "You sure you can actually make a Sleeping Potion? I mean, back in school you almost killed Snape with your antidote once. You've never been good with potions."

Something hit Cho. "You're right. Maybe I should do that instead."

"What? Kill Snape?"

"No – make that antidote again! Exactly the way I made it at school! That way I'd be able to _poison_ Draco and forever get him out of Harry's life! If they don't know what he's been given they can't cure him, right?" She laughed, pleased with herself and her shady scheme. And since she had put a slight Influence Spell on Lavender, so did she.

* * *

In the commotion that was caused by the clones – mainly by Genki Piper, really... – everybody forgot to keep an eye on the most uncertain one – Malfoy Piper. Therefore no-one noticed when she picked up the paper and read the article that had been the reason for Piper's Power Enhancement Spell, and no-one saw her reaction. Because when she read the part about "Draco Malfoy, sole heir of the Malfoy line" she got quite pissed. Crumbling up the paper in her hands, she muttered to herself: "Sole heir, eh? They totally forgot about me, didn't they? Well, I'll make them see otherwise!"

* * *

Cho always told herself that one should believe in oneself – and that was what she did when she sneaked into the Malfoy Manor with the intention to break into Piper's private quarters and steal a few bottles of poison from her. She had tried her own poison on a few dungbeetles, but they had all lived which meant that so would Draco. Therefore, she needed to execute Plan B. Unfortunately Piper was not as stupid as she seemed; she kept her door locked. Unable to get inside, afraid of getting caught before she had got what she had come for, Cho cursed under her breath and silently stamped her foot down. When she was about to give up someone grabbed her shoulder from behind. Gasping in fright, she swiftly swirled around. Piper was staring at her with a devius look in her grey eyes – but she looked so different. She was wearing enough leather to make an MC thug jealous, and she had piercings all over her face!

"Need help with that?"

* * *

Draco spent most of the afternoon painting – something that he had not done for years. He had always had a talent for art, and currently he was working on a glorified specimen of Harry. He wanted to make Harry-on-the-canvas just as perfect and flawless as he saw him. But the thing was, when Draco was excercising his artistic and creative abilities he forgot all about the world around him, and he might have left a few things out... or, like, his entire brush-and-paint-set complete in a neat black box... and he might have put it in the middle of the floor...

A loud _thunk!_ came from the adjoining room. "OOOWW! What the Hell—"

"Shut up, you're ruining my concentration," Draco growled.

"Fuck your concentration! I just stumbled over your bloody paint set and now I've got red paint all over myself!" Harry shouted back.

Draco squealed in terror and ran out into the other room. When he saw the mess he shrieked. "No! My paint!" He shot angry flashes at Harry. "You fucking incapable clumsy bastard! Can't you watch where you're going?! That's a hundred Gold Galleons worth of paint, you moron!"

"It is? Oh, I'm sorry – _I'm bloody covered in paint here!_ Could you be more selfish?!"

"Selfish? _Selfish?! _Who's being selfish? That's not _your_ money you're covered in!"

"Oh, like you don't have enough to buy new paint..."

"That's not the point! I needed that for the background, and now I have to go to Diagon Alley to pick up more!" Draco complained.

Harry grimaced sceptically. "You need to go all the way to Diagon Alley just to get some paint?"

_"It's magical paint, you arse!!"_ Draco yelled, and threw a couple of his brushes at him.

That was the last drop for Harry. Still covered in paint, and now with a brush hanging down from his moderate chest, he made to lash out at Draco. He probably meant to say something really insulting, but what came out was just a series of complex hisses that, to Draco, sounded something like "Hssssfffssshassnfff". Blinking stupidly, Draco completely forgot that he was angry with Harry. Instead he stared at his lover with eyes wide-open in bafflement and lack of understanding. "You hissed at me," he whispered.

Harry had not noticed any difference in his own voice. "Yeah, so – I'm bloody furious with you right now!" he stated, red in the face.

Draco waved his hands in front of him dismissively. "No, no, that's not what I meant! You _hissed_ – as in Parseltongue! Sssss!" he tried to explain.

It did not have the effect that he had hoped. Harry just seemed to become more offended. Pointing an accusatory finger at Draco, he spat out, "What did you just call me?!"

Draco jerked. "What? I actually said something? But you know I don't speak Parseltongue! If I said something it was pure coincidence! I was just trying to explain to you that you hissed like a snake, and you've never done that before! Not to my face, I mean. The only time I've actually heard you speak Parseltongue was that time during Duelling Club when I sent that snake after you... That was bloody impressive, Harry. And bloody sexy. Say something else!"

Harry blinked at him. "Excuse me? You go on about your precious paints, and then just because I say 'go fuck yourself' in Parseltongue you're prepared to just let it go?" he asked sceptically.

"That's what you said? What did I say?"

"'Bite my white arse fish-eye'," Harry said, and this time he was actually smiling.

"I said all that in just one hiss? Amazing! Say something else!"

Harry concentrated hard and hissed.

Draco was instantly aroused. Walking over to Harry, he said, "How about we have some angry make-up sex to celebrate the use of your second language?" With an elegant flick of his arm, he made the paint on Harry's body and clothes go away.

Harry pretended to be averse to the idea. "Why should I consent to anything like that with someone who just called me a fish-eye in my second language?" he joked.

Draco was quick to follow. "Oh, you can call me something equally offending." Leaning in closer, he whispered in Harry's ear, his lips just slightly touching Harry's earlobe. "You could call me Malfoy. That'd really piss me off."

"Ooh, I don't know if I wanna make _that_ mistake again...," Harry protested.

Draco nibbled at his earlobe. "Call me Malfoy. I promise I'll be rough and merciless."

Harry laughed. "So trash me then, Malfoy."

A rush of genuine fury passed through Draco and made him shudder for a second. He had not expected that calling him Malfoy again would have such an intense and immediate effect, but he embraced the opportunity and used the adrenaline kick that his anger gave him and turned it into a white-hot, furious, insane desire instead. "Oh, you're gonna regret you said that," he growled at Harry, and bit down on the raven-haired boy's neck. He ripped open Harry's shirt and ripped off Harry's cotton trousers. He was not wearing any underwear, and Draco actually stopped for a fraction of a second to marvel over this oddity. Harry always wore underwear; he felt naked otherwise. But he did not contemplate it further, he was getting way too horny and way too impatient to dominate to have time for such trivial ponderings.

Roughly, sneering deviously, he forced himself into Harry – Harry going "Ah, fuck, God, yes!" – and immediately began to thrust forcefully, mercilessly. Harry rose to receive every breathtaking thrust, slamming their hips together with immense power. Hoo, nothing could beat this way to solve a problem... Harry began to shriek again, shouted out loud just like he had done last, not aware of it himself, not the least bit concerned that he might draw the intention of more than five Pipers. "Hell, shit, yeah, harder, harder, harderharderharderharderharder, beat me, smack me, trash me Dracums!" Draco slapped his face and elicited an even more fierce cry of pleasure mixed with pain, he thrusted, he thrusted, he thrusted, he trembled, trembled bad, shivers and shudders and quivers all through his body now, Harry going "Yeah, baby, yeah, baby, that's it, thrashmethrashmethrashmebeatmeslapme, yeah, YEAH, YEAH!" and Draco slapped and smacked and thrust even harder, losing himself in his world of pleasure and golden specks of light, thrust so fucking hard against Harry's prostate, crying out when Harry clawed at his back, certainly leaving bloody claw marks all over him, thrust, thrust, thrust...

Simultaneously, they cried out, letting all their inhibitions go, embracing orgasm. With a final shudder of every exhausted muscle, Draco collapsed on top of Harry, who still breathed a low "yeah, yeah, yeah... baby..." under his breath, eyes closed and face all sweaty and red and heaven-like. Draco withdrew and fell down on the floor next to Harry. Then he looked at his lover. Gasped. "Oh, my God, Harry you're bleeding!"

Harry slowly opened his eyes. "What?" Looked down at himself. Fresh blood was trickling out of his opening. "Oh, shit!"

Draco immediately reached for his wand. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to thrust _that_ hard! Arteria mendo!" The Healing Spell worked perfectly, thank Merlin. "Man, that was some angry make-up sex..."

"Insane," Harry agreed. "But bloody good. I really needed that. Thanks, mate," he added teasingly.

Draco slapped his face again, but not as hard as before though... "You're really asking for a second trashing, aren't you? Well, for your information, I'm going downstairs to have a snack, all this fucking made me hungry..."

He met Yousuke out in the hall. "Oh, hi Joe," he said without reflecting over the Japanese man's presence. But when he reached the stairs he stopped. Yousuke? There – at the Manor?

"Aa, koibito-san, yatto bokura atte iru!" he heard behind him. (Ah, my lover, finally we meet!)

And before he even turned around he knew who Yousuke had run into. "Yousuke! YousukeYousukeYousuke! My beloved boyfriend, my flower amongst flowers! Come give mama a big kiss!"

Draco swirled around. "_Noooo!_ Joe, don't do it! That's not Piper! That's Genki!"

Yousuke frowned at him. "Genki? You learn Japanese, Doreeko-san?"

Draco waved his arms feverishly in front of him. "No, no, no! That's not what I meant! Piper cloned herself – didn't she tell you? She made seven copies of herself, and they all have different personalities. Green spots – that's Genki Piper!"

"Piper is genki clone? What is clone?"

"A copy! Someone who looks like her but isn't her!"

"Is not her? Genki Piper get lost?"

"No, Piper's not lost – she's downstairs. The real Piper – your Piper – is wearing black clothes."

Yousuke blinked. "Black clothes?"

"Yeah, kimono or whatever you call it... you know, the stuff you wear so you won't have to be naked..."

"Ah! Kimono! Hai hai! Doreeko-kun wa genki desu!" (Clothes/Kimono! You got it! Draco is energetic!)

"What? Yeah, Genki, right. Whatever."

"Be genki, Doreeko-san! Genki bite for later dinner, right?"

Now Draco really did not understand a word of what he was saying. "Er... right. I'm going to grab a bite, you want something to eat, Joe? Piper's probably in the kitchen. But watch out for Gluttony Piper, she might swallow you whole!"

* * *

Harry joined him in the den half an hour later. Hardly had they had time to sit down and enjoy their quiet time together before the fireplace gave a roar of green fire and a shadow stepped out into the room. Unfortunately it was neither Santa Claus nor the tooth fairy, but Cho. "Hey boys!" she said with a broad smile. "Thought I ought to pay you a visit since it's been such a long time, don't you agree?" She gave them no time to answer, but went straight out to the kitchen. When she returned she was carrying a tray with three mugs of steaming hot tea. She had used their "name-jugs", as Piper liked to call them – one saying HARRY, one saying DRACO, and one saying GUEST. She sat down in an armchair and instantly began to sip at hers. When neither of them had moved for a whole minute, she said, "What? You're not even going to drink that? Oh, I have to use you bathroom anyways, this tea went straight to my bladder. Where might it be?"

Draco instructed Sensitive Piper to show her. Then he looked down at the tea. "Why is she here, Harry? Did you ask her to come? Did you invite her?"

"What? No! I don't want her here, either. I have no idea why she just showed up like that. But let's just play it cool and try not to blow our cover, okay? She cannot know that I'm Harry and you're Draco, all right?"

"Right." But when they drank their tea they instinctively took the mugs with their names on it. Therefore, without their knowledge, Draco got the poison and Harry got the Influence Potion that had been meant for them, but which would have been mixed up had they switched mugs according to the bodies they were currently in.

When Cho returned, they both stood up, silently agreeing on asking her to leave. But when Draco, playing the part of Courteous Potter, opened his mouth to excuse them, the lights went out. Since night was already upon them and no other lamps were on in any of the adjacent rooms, the den became pitch black. Draco froze. Something was not right. "Ha... Draco?" he said warily. "Did you turn out the lights?" Harry had been closer to the light switch than he had at the time of shutdown.

"No," came Harry's voice from somewhere at the other end of the room. "But I'm trying to find the switch to turn it on again..."

"I turned the lights out," Cho said, and there was a new slyness in her voice now.

"Why did you turn out the lights?" Draco inquired, feeling more anxious for every second that passed in the dark. Then, addressing, Harry, he said, "Why did she turn out the lights?"

"How am I supposed to know?" It was silent for a while, then someone bumped into something. "Shit! Where are you, Harry?"

"I'm right here," Draco said, "I—" He fell silent when he felt something poke him in the side. "Draco, is that you?"

"No, I'm over here. I think I'm by one of the armchairs or something..."

"Then who's touching me?" Draco asked in bewilderment. As soon as he had uttered those words he knew the answer. Cho. Who else? So that had been her scheme. Coming to the Manor, turning off all the lights, confusing them, catching them off guard, trying to make a grab at Harry... She was trying to steal his Harry! Only she thought _he_ was Harry...

Something pinched his butt. He jerked. "Hey! Stop that! _Haaarryyyyy!_"

"Why are you crying your own name, Harry? You got some sort of egotistic streak to you?"

"Draco, what's happening?" Harry asked. "I can't see a bloody thing..."

"She's touching me!" Draco whined and tried to get away from her.

"She's touching you where?" Jealousy was evident in Harry's voice. "Where – is – she- touching – you?!"

"She grabbed my arse!" He cried out in disgusted and offended surprise when he felt another hand on himself. "And now she grabbed my privates, too!"

"That's _my_ privates! Cho, you stop it right this minute, or I'll—"

The lights came back on. They all froze.

"Well, this is an interesting scene..." Piper was standing in the doorway with Yousuke behind her. The real Piper, thank Merlin. Draco did not want to think about what could have happened if it had been Slutty Piper standing there! She probably just would have turned the lights back off and joined Cho in her grabbing-frenzy.

Harry was semi-leaning against, semi-embracing an armchair looking mighty astonished. Draco was currently standing in the middle of the room, Cho standing next to him holding his genitals in a firm grip – _with_ clothes on, mind you! He swiftly broke free of his paralysis and ran over to Harry. "Oh, Harryyyy! I was so scaaaaared!" he whimpered and threw himself around his lover's neck, seeking comfort. "Make that evil woman go away!"

Harry shot angry looks at Cho. "How dare you molest my Dracums like that?" he inquired, growling.

Cho looked at them in bafflement. "What? But— Draco was— you're— What are you talking about?"

"I'm Harry and he's Draco!" Harry yelled, beside himself with anger and offense. "Piper switched our bodies and now we can't switch back! Get out of here before I curse you!"

She did not stay to chat.

Piper was thoughtfully scratching her head. "What just happened here?" she asked.

"Don't ask," Harry muttered.

* * *

"Timothy!" He runs after the boy. "Timothy, wait! I just want to talk to you! Hey, I said wait!"

The blond boy stops thirty feet ahead.

Harry runs to him. Panting, he says, "Why did you run away from me?"

"Because she told me to," the boy replies in that dead, mellow tone.

Harry knits his eyebrows. "She told you to run away from your own father?"

"She told me to stay away from you and do my job. She told me to go to the past and kill you."

"_What?!_"

"She is sleeping. Maybe I can break free if you help me. Help me, Harry. I do not want to kill you. I want to save Draco."

Harry's head spins. He grabs the sleeve of the blonde's silk shirt – one of Draco's old. "Who is this woman? Why is she using you like this? And why on Earth did she tell you to go back in time and kill me?"

"I do not know – I do not ask questions. I just obey."

"But why on Earth do you obey such a woman, Timothy?! She's turning you into something you're not!"

The boy is silent for a while. "I do not know her intentions. She tells me she wants to make the world a beautiful place to live in again, but she is only making it worse, is she not? She is sleeping, so maybe I can break free."

Harry tries to shake the confusion out of his head. "Break free? What do you mean?"

"Of the restraint ring."

This is the first time Harry notices the ring around the boy's neck. Trembling, he reaches out one hand to touch it. "Don't!" the boy warns. "You will be hit with electric currents so strong it will knock you unconscious!"

Harry looks at the boy. "Is that how she controls you? With electric currents subjected through that ring around your neck? Is that how she makes you obey?"

Now the boy's voice is trembling. "She is punishing me..."

"Punishing you? For what?"

"For not being... not being..."

"Not being what?"

"... not being... playful..."

Something in Harry's brain rings a bell.

"I never played with her... and James would just read..."

Suddenly he understands who Timothy is talking about. Falling to his knees, weak from the horrible revelation, he whispers: "Oh my God..."

_(To be continued...)_

"Boku o michibiku kasukana shiruetto..."

* * *

**Footnote:** The use of the Japanese word "genki" here is not quite correct at all times – for example, you can't say that "she is genki with it" as in "she is happy with it", that was simply to point out how stupid Piper is (and how little Draco knows of the Japanese language). And in this particular part (and I'm sure I'll do the same thing with Genki Piper in following parts with the clones) I have used the word "genki" in the fashion that my idol Kotani Kinya would use it (his English is quite bad, actually). Kotani-sama usually says things like "be genki and hop like mad man", so... yeah. He also pronounces the word "smashing" as "sumossin", but that really is another story... anyway, what I'm trying to say is that I am trying to make Yousuke like that. So don't take everything that he and Genki Piper say to one another too seriously – it is _not_ grammatically correct!

**To look forward to in part 9:** Cho tries even harder to get rid of Draco. The Other is on Timmy's tail – and 'ickle Timmy finally breaks free for a moment... Also: The clones make life tough for Harry and Draco – one plays the hero and one plays the killer... (any guesses who??)


	35. And so the tables were turned, part 9

**Rating:** NC-17/OOC/mpreg

**Pairing:** H/D

**Disclaimer:** All characters belong to J.K. Rowling, except for my own little darlings; Piper, Tom/James, the Forgettes, the mystery teens (Joz & Timothy), Magami and Yousuke Sakanoue.

**Disclaimer II:** The nickname "Dracums" belongs to Golden. She's letting me borrow it. _Arigatou!_ :P

**A/N:** I know, I always have to write a lot of crap before I get to the good parts – but be patient! There are many good parts in this! I promise! And there is really only one question I am fighting to try and find an answer to, and that question is: Can Harry handle the new Ron? You'll see what I mean...

_¤¤¤To the memory of Pärlor – my 'ickle Beady-Beads¤¤¤  
__2003-10-24—2005-02-13_

* * *

**And so the tables were turned... (9)**

He looks at his son, his youngest since Blaise is dead, and wonders what Joz possibly could have done to change him that much, because this is not the same Timothy that Harry and Draco raised. Sure, he has always been a very troubled boy because of his ability to see and feel the future as well as the past, and because of the immense weight on his shoulders caused by his duties as a Time Manipulator, but none of that had ever weighed him down like this. He had always been able to smile and have fun, and he had always been a very pleasant child. But now... there is only pain left in him, a pain that Harry can relate to all too well. It is the same pain that weighs down his heart – the pain of loss and the pain of awareness, but also the pain of one's actions. And if Harry's instinct can be trusted in this matter, he thinks that Timothy has done some really bad things under Joz's control. Studying his son, Harry tries to figure out where it went wrong, when this started, but he cannot remember when Timothy started to turn into this emotionless robot.

He has succeeded to persuade Timothy into sitting down with him in the parlour, a room which Harry has not entered for more than eight years. There are too many memories that might be triggered by coming into this room, and it is still too painful to think about Draco and everything that he has lost. But he sits there for Timothy's sake, and maybe the fact that he is willing to sit in the parlour was what made Timmy consent to this chat. Harry chooses his words carefully. "What exactly is it that Joz has done to you?" he asks. "And what is her agenda? Do you know anything at all about her intentions, other than her wish to make the world a beautiful place again?"

The boy is silent for a very long while, and Harry almost believes that he has lost the ability to speak altogether. But then he opens his mouth. "She is sleeping," he says cryptically.

Harry frowns. "Sleeping? Does that mean that her hold on you isn't as strong as it usually is?"

"That is correct."

"So this is pretty much our only chance to figure out a way to free you?"

"Yes, that is correct."

"Have you any idea how we're going to manage that?"

"I am afraid not. But we have two hours. Usually she likes to sleep three hours in the middle of the day to collect her strength and recharge her powers. She has now been asleep for sixty-two minutes."

"Only two hours... so we don't have any time to look up any spells..."

Harry almost jumps when Timothy begins to laugh. It is the first sign of humanity and life that he has given him since he came home. The boy shakes his head, and says, "And you of all people should need books to find useful spells? How many years have you fought the dark side now? Twenty-eight years, no? And you really think you need to rely on books?"

Harry stares at him with his mouth hanging open. "You're laughing..."

Timothy abruptly stops when he realises that he is actually displaying emotion. "You are right, Harry, I am." He is silent for a few seconds. "Perhaps her hold on me is not as strong as I thought."

"Correct me if I'm wrong: You're aware of her influence on you, but you can't ignore it?"

"That is correct," Timothy says again.

"So all we need to do to fully free you of her spell is to eliminate the source of it. The necklace."

Timothy shakes his head. "Not just the necklace – you need to eliminate her. Only then will I be free. Are you prepared to kill your own daughter if it comes down to that, Harry?"

Harry studies him, rendered speechless by indecision. Then, he says, "If I do, and you are freed, will you really be able to save my Dracums? Will you really be able to prevent his death?"

"Yes. His and Blaise's I am sure. I cannot say for sure that I can save Tom, though. James, I mean. His is an uncertain destiny, hard to read even for me. But I will do my best to try."

Harry licks his dry lips. "And... Piper? Piper and the others?"

The boy frowns. "What about them?"

"Are they... are they dead?" He is almost too afraid to ask. He does not want to hear the answer, because he already knows it. He can feel it.

Timothy lowers his gaze. "Yes, they are. They are dead."

"And she killed them?"

"Yes. I will make up for everything that she has done for you, that is a promise."

"Thanks. But first, tell me... did you have anything to do with it? Did she use you to...?"

"To be honest with you, I do not know."

"Okay. Yes, I am prepared to kill her if there is no other solution. If it means that I will help save the lives of at least eleven people I will do it. Maybe it will save Joz, too."

Yet again, the boy shakes his head. "No, she is beyond saving. She is a deeply disturbed woman, insane from birth. I know you never noticed, but she was always very different. That is why I never played with her as a child. I could see her evil aura. I could _feel it_. Please, Harry, you have to save me, I cannot take this any more. I need to break free. I need to save Draco."

Harry regards his boy with slight hesitance. There is still something bothering him. "Timothy... why haven't you ever called me Daddy or father? You've never called Draco anything like that, either. You always called us by our names. Why?"

"Because a father is something you become of choice, not something that you are. It is like a profession. If you were a florist you would not want me to call you Florist, would you?"

"No. Not really. So calling me father would be like calling me Professor?"

"Yes, but you do not teach any more."

"That is of no relevance, Timmy. But what _is_ of relevance is that the war is coming to an end. In a matter of weeks, we will be free of Pywercaseley's regime, and everything will slowly start to go back to normal. As normal as it could ever be without Dracums, that is..." He bites his lip.

Outside, the rain is falling again – the rain that seems to colour the world a grey-tinted blue-green nowadays. Fat drops smatter against the window panes. The gardens look awfully deserted to Harry, and he longs to walk on the grass again, walk down to the lake... maybe sit by the shore for a while. But not without Draco. Never again without Draco. Eight long years... eight bloody years alone...

"The... the war is coming to an end?" the boy stutters, a tremour in his voice.

Harry looks at him. For the first time in many years, there is hope in the boy's eyes. He nods. "Yes, the Death Eaters are retreating. We're winning, Timothy."

"Wi-winning? Really? It's going to stop? For real?"

"Yes, otherwise they wouldn't have sent me home, would they?"

A smile is forming on the boy's thinned lips. "She will have no hold on me..." But then he abruptly stops, and fear comes to his eyes, pales them. Shaking, he whispers, "She is waking. She knows I have told you. She will punish me for this, she will torment me again... I do not want that pain again... please, not the pain... _I am so sorry_..."

Harry anxiously rises from his seat. "Timmy? Timmy, what is she doing to you? Timmy, answer me!"

The boy is shaking even worse by the second, and his eyes are those of utter and stark, naked terror. "She says that we will all be punished for this – she says that the end of the war will be avenged in the most hideous way any man can imagine. She says that the war _will_ go on. It will never stop. Never stop."

* * *

No, not again, not again... ah, the pain that spread through his intestines and his groin... the pain... it was like nothing else he had ever experienced, not even the pain that he had felt when he was pregnant with James and Tom did all those hideous, evil things. This was a pain out of this world. And, yep, there came the blood. Great. Just great. "I'll bloody kill her for this..."

He flushed and exited the downstairs bathroom, passing Sensitive Piper and Malfoy Piper as he stormed out into the kitchen where Gluttony Piper was currently wolfing down her second cake for the day. "Piper!" His black-clad sister turned in astonishment when she heard him call her name. "I need a word with you in private, please. It's urgent, so just leave your little Japanese friend there and come with me to the den, please."

She came without protests, something that he was glad for. As soon as they had closed the door behind them, she said: "What is it? I'm busy."

Draco went straight to the point. "Have you done anything to me?"

She blinked. "Done anything to you? No. Why would I do that?"

Draco hesitated. The astonishment on her face was genuine. "You sure you haven't poured anything into my tea or anything?" he pressed.

"No. What is this – the Spanish inquisition?"

"There's something wrong with me..."

"Oh, so _that's_ why!" she exclaimed sarcastically. "There's something wrong with you and you decide that I have to be the one responsible for it!"

"Yeah, what else am I supposed to think after everything you've tried on me?! So, tell me honestly – have you put anything in my tea? Have you put any spells on me in my sleep?"

"I'm telling you no, Draco! I haven't!"

Draco was silent for a long while.

Piper noticed the anxious frown on his face. "Why? Has something happened?"

"I... I'm feeling weird..."

She blinked again. "You're _feeling_ weird? That's it?"

Draco felt embarrassed to admit it, but he understood that he needed to tell her what his problem was. "Piper, I've been peeing blood for a month," he whispered.

"Peeing blood? That can't be good."

"I know. That's why I want to know what you make of it," he said worriedly.

She pondered the matter for ten seconds or so. "I don't know for sure, but it might be something you ate. Or it might be a bad case of cystitis... Have you fallen and landed on your kidneys recently?"

Now Draco blinked in lack of understanding and bafflement. "Excuse me? Who the Hell falls and lands on his kidneys?!"

"Sorry, must've been Stupid Piper speaking," Piper excused herself.

Something began to stir within Draco. Feeling awkward, he slowly massaged his stomach. It was bubbling, churning. "All right... so you don't know, then?" he demanded. He was starting to feel rather queasy, not quite different from the nauseau he had experienced during his pregnancies.

"Sorry," Piper said.

"Okay. Don't tell Harry, okay? I don't want to worry him without a reason..."

"Is it really without a reason if _you're_ worried, Draco? Hey, are you all right? You look a bit pa—"

Suddenly Draco was forced to bend over double as a surge of vomit rose from his stomach, and he was utterly disgusted with himself when today's lunch splashed down onto his perfect, spotless, very expensive floor. But it did not stop with the lunch; when nothing was left in his stomach to spew up, the gag reflex went deeper and drew some blood. No, not just some blood; suddenly it was spurting out of him, and there was no end to it! It did not stop! He felt fear rising from the depths of his soul, because this was not normal, this was not good, he was going to fucking vomit to death!

Piper gasped. "Oh, my God! Hematemesis! _Harryyyyyy!!_"

Draco wanted to say "Not Harry" but he could not speak because of all the blood; he could not even breathe. Oh, Lord, he was losing consciousness, he was—

The world went black.

* * *

A blurr – everything was a blurr. When the world finally swam back into focus he noticed Harry sitting bent over him, anxiety and fear written all over his face. Draco wanted to smooth out those lines.

"Dracums? Dracums, can you hear me?"

"Mmm, yeah, but shut up, my head's bursting..."

Harry drew a breath of relief. Draco noticed that he was holding his hand. "Thank God! I thought I had lost you!"

Draco knitted his brows. "Lost me? Whaddaya mean? I just puked a little, is all."

"Just puked a little?! It was hematemesis, for fuck's sake!"

"Hemate-what? Is that a disease?"

"Hematemesis," Harry repeated impatiently. "Vomiting of blood."

"Oh. Couldn't you just have said that instead? I don't understand fancy medical terms."

"Draco, this is serious. Someone's subjected you to some sort of slow-working poison. That's why you vomited blood, and that's why you've been peeing blood for the last month. Yes, I know about that – what, you think I'm stupid and don't notice that sort of thing? If Piper and I hadn't got you to the hospital in time, you would have died. It was close this time. Too close."

He was released from the hospital three days later, but still felt awkward. He still could not eat as much as usual, and his throat still burnt as if he had swallowed fire. There still were no traces leading back to the person who had poisoned him, and since he could not quite pinpoint the day he had started to feel weird they had practically nothing to go on.

Ron came over that day to see how he was doing, and Draco was flattered that the weasel actually cared about him. "How are you? Are you okay? Have you any trouble because of the poison? Are you in pain? Christ, I was so worried!" Ron's words came in a spray of spit, and he sort of resembled an automatic gun. Draco just laughed and gave him a friendly slap on the shoulder. "Of course I'm fine! I don't have any pain at all! But thanks for asking, mate."

"Of course, I— Ugh, that is so disgusting!" he exclaimed all of a sudden.

Draco and Harry blinked at the redhead. "What?"

Ron pointed at their necks. "Those love marks! Uuuugghhh! You're doing it _now_ when you're in each other's bodies, are you? Mate, that's like having sex with yourself, that's gross!"

Draco just shrugged his shoulders. "What?" he said sceptically. "I was inside him just five minutes ago, and I didn't find it gross."

Ron covered his eyes with his right hand. "Yuck, mate! I've always tried to block out the fact that you blokes must be sleeping with each other, and let me tell you that I've managed just fine until now! Sure, your pregnancies kind of made it difficult for me, but you'd be surprised to learn how much the brain can suppress. Blimey, I'm going to have nightmares for a month!"

Harry and Draco just laughed at him.

A cry of utter terror came from the kitchen.

Exchanging knowing looks, they silently decided upon checking it out. All three of them ran into the kitchen, wands at the ready. Gluttony Piper was lying in the middle of the kitchen floor, dead. Towering above her unmoving body, Malfoy Piper was standing with a replica of the real Piper's wand, murderously and cold-heartedly directing a huge butcher's knife at the fat clone. There was blood everywhere. When she noticed them just inside the door, she smiled viciously. "What? A Malfoy never uses her hands," she said in a malicious tone. "Besides, she was just eating all the time – wasn't of any good to anybody. And it was _fun_."

Draco could have never imagined that his sister had that in her, and he was immensely thankful that she was so skilled at suppressing her Malfoy genes.

"Incarcerous Totilae!" Harry shouted, and heavy steel chains came out of the tip of his wand binding Malfoy Piper. "Mobilicorpus!" He swiftly moved her to one of the empty second floor rooms and bound her to a straight-backed chair, sealed the windows and locked the door; they would keep her there for the remainder of the spell.

Scared and somewhat shaken by what he had witnessed, Ron returned home shortly thereafter. They went up to their bedroom to have some privacy, get away from the clones and all. Draco sat down on the edge of the bed, sighing deeply. "This is just getting worse and worse," he said.

Harry rummaged through Draco's wardrobe. "I know what you mean," he agreed. "First the resurrection of Lord Pywercaseley, then Piper's spell backfiring and creating those clones, then someone poisons you without either of us noticing, and now your sister's Malfoy genes are getting murderous. Couldn't anything be normal around here?"

Draco laughed bitterly. "Is there any such thing as normality in this world?"

Harry stopped rummaging around in his wardrobe and sat down on his left. He gently kissed Draco on the cheek. "There, there. Don't be so pessimistic. There are loads of normal things in this world."

Draco snorted. "Yeah? And that's supposed to be the Muggles, or what?"

Harry shrugged. "I don't know. But don't think too much about it, it'll only give you a headache, babe." He roughed Draco's hair a bit. Tenderly, he kissed him right over his left ear. Teased with his tongue along the ridge of his ear. Draco laughed. "Harry... you're in that mood, huh?" Harry twisted a strand of his long blond hair coquettishly, fluttering innocently with his semi-long lashes. "Maybe...," he said, eliciting another laugh from Draco. Then he stood up and held out his hand. "Dance with me."

Draco blinked. "What?"

"Dance with me," Harry repeated, a lovely smile on his rosy lips.

"Da-dance with you? Now? But there is no music..."

"Do you need music?"

Harry encouraged him to stand up and carefully put his arms around him slow-dance-style. His eyes fixed on Draco's, his nose only half an inch from Draco's, his warm breath on Draco's pale skin, he just could not refuse him. Without another word, he put his arms around Harry and rested his cheek on Harry's shoulder; closed his eyes. They moved to the rhythm of their heartbeats, the only music they needed. Since Harry was now five months pregnant and really starting to get large around the waist Draco had to kind of lean forward in order to embrace him. Harry's breasts pressed against his pounding chest. He held tighter, pressed closer, desperate to make the feeling of being as one stronger and purer. The lovely scents of his boyfriend made him high, euphoric, and he thought to himself that it was dangerous to be this happy.

In a low, melodious voice, Harry began to hum a slow, sweet melody that Draco did not recognise. He kissed Draco's hair, caressed his back, shoulders, and the back of his neck; nibbled at his earlobe. Draco sighed happily. He was glad that Harry had asked him to dance, because even if it was corny to move around without music it was bloody lovely.

Harry placed gentle kisses in a line between his ear and the corner of his mouth, finally resting his lips on Draco's. Draco happily answered to the kiss, tightening their embrace, feeling as though he was rising from the ground and now hovering above it. "Oh, Harry... how can you be so bloody perfect?" he murmured against Harry's soft skin.

He could feel the smile on Harry's face rather than see it. "Because I'm you, remember?"

Draco thankfully teased Harry into another sweet, long, wet kiss, because that was the most beautiful thing he had ever heard. He held his hands around Harry's smooth face while Harry slowly pulled the white shirt out of Draco's trousers; shivers travelled down Draco's spine as his lover's fingers lightly touched the small of his back. The raven-haired boy continued by putting his hands inside Draco's trousers, slowly and sensuously massaging his firm buttocks. To Draco's surprise this instantly aroused him – but that might be because of the hot skin contact. He began to breathe faster, heavier. "Harry..."

Harry silenced him by forcing him into another session of snogging. A healthy flush was swiftly colouring their cheeks a rosy red as they became more aroused and their kissing became more desperate.

Draco stuck his hands inside the raven-haired boy's jumper, hungrily touching his burning skin, anxious to feel those strong arms around himself and anxious to be as close as two people could be; he breathed close to Harry's lips. "I want you..."

Harry seemed to want to swallow him whole when he once again stole a long, hot, semi-wet kiss. Panting slightly, he replied: "Oh, baby, I want you, too, I want you so bad, I want to be inside you now and forever."

"Lucky for you it's your turn," Draco managed to joke although he was dead serious to get beneath the covers as soon as possible not to ruin the wonderful, perfect physical chemistry between them. He gripped the edges of Harry's jumper and slowly, teasingly pulled it up over his modest belly, his chest, and ultimately his head. The blond hair became tousled and stood out on the sides because of static electricity. A happy smile spread on Draco's face. With love and affection, he put both his hands on Harry's belly – caressed it slowly. "I'm going to be a father," he said wondrously, and looked up to meet Harry's eyes.

Harry was smiling, too. Apparently in a jocular mood, he said: "And evidently, I'm going to be a mother."

Draco laughed. "Not quite what you expected when you became my boyfriend that night five years ago, huh? I'm glad it happened, anyway. I love being a father. And I'd love a hundred kids."

Harry caressed his cheek. "I know you would, baby. Come here."

Draco obligingly went into his arms, receiving the kiss with closed eyes and tingling nerves. He gasped for breath as Harry unbuttoned and removed his shirt, then gave a short shriek when Harry unzipped his jeans and put a hand inside. He bit his lower lip and threw his head back slightly when he felt the hand massaging his groin, frequently brushing against his successively hardening erection. He desperately grabbed Harry's cotton trousers and pulled them off. Then he hissed: "Throw me down on the bed – _now_!"

Harry did as told and aggressively threw him down onto the bed, following close behind but taking it easy not to hurt the baby. Draco swiftly kicked off his jeans, but he let Harry remove the black boxers. Harry deliberately touched his erection several times while pulling down his underwear just to tease him, and Draco moaned impatiently, urging him to hurry, _hurry_. When they were finally on the bed where they (in Draco's opinion) ought to be right now, Draco rose into a sitting position and gently, sensuously pulled down Harry's underwear. He took Harry's knob in his mouth.

Harry cried out. "God!"

But Draco withdrew after just a few seconds, laying straight back down. "Now you can slide right in," he said teasingly.

Harry did not delay their union for a second, but gently placed himself atop Draco and, after figuring out how to best perform with his large stomach, penetrated him eliciting a pleased squeal from the blonde, who immediately rose to meet him half-way. Harry thrust deep into him, every time brushing against his prostate, stirring up as much pleasure as possible, and Draco dug his fingertips deep into Harry's back, leaving red marks on his lover's skin. "Ah, Harry! Harry! Harry! Yes!" He tensed and bucked and thrashed – and Harry thrust harder, faster, harder, faster...

He gripped Harry's arm. His eyelashes were fluttering. He was on the verge of exploding. "Harry... Harry, come with me! Come with me! Co—"

The last word died out as Draco reached climax and cried out one last time. At the same time Harry stiffened and made little half-choked squeaky sounds in rhythm with his quick shallow breathing. He rolled off and lay on his back beside Draco.

For a moment neither of them said anything.

They just lay there, savouring.

"That was exactly what I needed," Draco sighed happily.

Harry snuggled up closer. "Me too, baby."

But Draco did not quite feel done yet, so he slid down somewhat and began to place small kisses on Harry's chest. Lazily drew figures and patterns on his lover's skin with his tongue, slowly working his way down to the navel, where he did a temporary stop before continuing down to his nether regions.

Harry stiffened. "Dracums, what are you doing?"

"Getting you fired up again, babe, I'm not finished with you. I want you to _scream_ just like you screamed the last time. I wanna see how far you can go."

"Why?"

"Because it turns me on, why'd you think I did it?"

"But I won't be able to get aroused again, I— _haaaah_..."

Draco had just reached Harry's groin and was using both his tongue and his hands to massage some action into him. And he got an immediate response, too. Sneering up at the raven-haired boy, he said, "And you were saying...?"

"Go on! Please, go on!"

"Your wish is my command, master." He played with Harry's penis for a while, then he began to work his way back up again, kissing a little here, licking a little there, biting and nibbling where he knew that Harry was extra sensitive. Furthermore he spent a minute or two playing with Harry's rigid nipples, a move that made Harry buck and gasp for breath. "Oh, God, yeah... keep it going, keep it going, it's so bloody good..." Draco smiled mischievously and bit down on Harry's nape. "Ah! Take me, Draco – please!" But Draco just shook his head and nibbled at Harry's earlobe instead. Sucked on a bit of extra sensitive skin on his jawbone. "Draco, please... no more foreplay... no more foreplay... fuck me... fuck me hard... please, now... now..."

This was exactly the reactions Draco wanted to create, and he was curious to find out what Harry might shout this time. He wondered if he would demand him to hit him again. Maybe that was what really turned Harry on? A slap in the face and deep scratches on his chest? Was he, after five years of active sex life, discovering that he was a masochist? Draco sure hoped that he would not have to get violent with Harry in order to please him in the future, becuase he would not stand to hurt him. Not even if that was what he wanted.

But now he was willing to do whatever it took to bring out the kinky Harry hidden deep inside his calm self. Steadying himself, he did as Harry wanted and pushed inside him. He started by moving gently and slowly inside of him, but then he picked up speed and changed his approach somewhat so he would now thrust against Harry's prostate.

Harry gasped for breath and threw his head back. "Oh, God, yes, more, more, harder, do me harder, hurry, hurry..."

Hearing Harry shout out in pleasure like that made Draco hotter, so he moved faster and thrust harder just like Harry wanted, and he was swiftly moving towards orgasm. A growing tinkling started in his groin and slowly spread outwards. "Harry... God, Harry..."

"Yes, Draco, yes! Harder, harder, harder! Trash me, do me, fuck me blue!" Harry slammed his hips up in a desperate attempt to force Draco deeper into him, and shouting his pleasure out loud he gripped two handfuls of crisp bedspread and clenched his hands toghether so hard that his knuckles turned white. Draco performed one last trembling thrust before collapsing on top of Harry, panting.

"You didn't ask me to slap you again – good," he breathed.

Harry studied him with suspicion. "I asked you to slap me?"

"Yeah, during our wonderfully lovely angry make-up sex," Draco informed him.

"I did? Really? Maybe it was because I was so furious and frustrated. Maybe I needed an extra spark that time."

"Maybe." Draco rolled off him and crawled down beneath the covers. "Well, good night."

"You're gonna sleep now?!"

"Yeah, I'm exhausted! Aren't you?"

"No. Actually I'm quite energised thanks to you, Dracums."

"Sorry to disappoint you, then, but I'm tired. Good night."

* * *

Harry was awakened by someone's voice the next morning, and in his drowsy state he sort of thought that one of the clones had come to disturb their morning peace. But when he opened his eyes and turned around, on the other hand, he found that the person speaking was Draco. "Baby?" he said sleepily, putting his arm around Draco, burying his face in his lover's roughed morning hair.

"Mmm, that's good... keep going...," Draco murmured in his sleep.

A kinky smile formed on Harry's lips. "You dreaming about last night, babe?"

Draco tensed his shoulders. "Ooohh, Blaise, that's so good... mmm, don't stop... yeah, right there, a little bit harder, please... oooohh..."

Harry stiffened when he heard the name 'Blaise'. What the...?

Anger getting the best of him, he roughly shook Draco. "Hey! Wake up!" he demanded.

The blonde stirred and opened his eyes with some effort. "Wha'? Where's the fire? Wha's happenin'? Is someone trying to kill you?"

Harry forced him to roll onto his back so he could look him in the eyes. "What the Hell were you dreaming just now?!" he demanded.

Draco blinked in confusion. "Wha— Dreaming? I wasn't dreaming anythi—"

"Ooh, yes you were! You were saying 'Blaise, harder!' for fuck's sake!"

Draco frowned. Then something seemed to hit him. "Oh! Now I remember! I was dreaming that Blaise massaged my shoulders because I had been lifting bricks all day! Yeah, that's it... I had this weird dream about Hogwarts being shut down and we all had to go work at this building site... it was reeaally weird, Harry. Why? And why are you looking at me like that?"

Harry studied him suspiciously. "Are you sure that was the entire dream? Nothing else happened? You didn't...?"

"Didn't what?" Draco asked in bewilderment. But then he understood what Harry was getting at. "Oh. You thought I had a wet dream about Blaise, didn't you? Sorry to disappoint you, Harry, but he was not pleasing me." He said it in a jocular tone of voice, but Harry was not laughing. A mischievous smile spread across Draco's face. "Harry... are you jealous of a dead man?"

"No!" Harry spat out way too quickly. Then he crossed his arms across his chest, sulking. "Yes."

Draco laughed and stroked Harry's knee. "You don't have to be. Blaise is dead, and even if he'd been alive you wouldn't have had to worry 'cause Blaise was straight. Now calm down."

Harry sulked for the rest of that morning, but it was hard to stay mad at Draco so he gave up around noon. He let Draco persuade him into ackompanying him to the parlour, where they lay down next to each other on their favourite couch. They just lay there in silence for an hour or so, listened to the perfect silence of the Manor – a sign that none of the clones were at home at the moment. Eventually they decided to take advantage of that opportunity...

* * *

The doorbell rang at 1.15, and Genki Piper went to open. She and the other clones had returned home from another training session only five minutes earlier – the real Piper was in Japan with Yousuke – and most of them were in the kitchen making lunch snacks. Genki was quite surprised that someone was at the door, because all Harry and Draco's friends either used the fireplace in the den or Apparated straight in. Therefore she was extra surprised to find Ron on the doorstep.

* * *

Ron missed hanging out with Harry, and even though it sort of grossed him out to see his best friend in Draco's pregnant body knowing that they were still having fun when the sun went down he decided to pay them a short visit that early afternoon. Since he did not want to walk in on anything he rang the door bell rather than going straight in through the fireplace. Piper answered the door and seemed quite surprised to see him. "Wonnie Lonnie!" she said with a huge smile. "What a pleasant surprise! Come in, come in! How are you?"

"Er... I'm fine," Ron said somewhat numbly. "Which one of them are you?"

"I'm Genki!" she introduced herself with energy to spare.

"I figured as much. Look, is Harry in? I really need to see him about something..."

"Oh, sure! They're in the parlour, it's just to go straight in, Wonnie-boy!"

Ron cleared his throat and went past her. "Thanks, I guess." He went straight into the parlour but stopped one step inside the archway when he registered the display before him.

Harry and Draco were on the couch, and they were definitely getting it on. They were not naked or anything, but Draco – or was it still Harry in Draco's body? – had his hands inside Harry's open fly, expectantly rubbing his privates. Harry was bent over Draco, his tongue shoved deep into the blonde's mouth, his hands working at the buttons in the expensive silk shirt. Draco moaned and moved his hands from Harry's open fly to Harry's stomach, lifted the fabric of the midnight blue T-shirt caressing his exposed skin... They looked so wonderfully hot together that Ron could not stop staring. He was completely fascinated with their apparent love for each other and the silent understanding they shared. He stared at the hands moving on Harry's belly, mesmerised... stared at their flushed cheeks, their closed eyes, their joined mouths... eagerly listened to their strained breathing...

He shook himself out of his paralysis and, very much embarrassed, cleared his throat as loudly as he could and said, "Erm, excuse me for interrupting, but Genki told me it was okay to come in, so..."

Harry and Draco instantly separated, Harry standing up next to the couch with his arms crossed over his chest. He regarded Ron with evident anger and dislike. Draco remained on the couch, sitting up slightly. "What do you want?" Harry said coldly. "Say it quickly and then get the Hell out of here because I won't bloody let you ruin this perfect mood."

Ron fidgeted nervously. "So, I take it you're still Malfoy, then?" he stated.

Harry's body rolled his eyes. "So bright, this one..."

"Draco," Harry-in-Draco's-body warned from the couch.

Ron found that he could not stop staring at Harry's stomach. Or, well, the stomach that belonged to Harry's body but which was now technically Draco's. "Man," he said numbly, "is it sick of me to actually get turned on by you guys?" He could not have stopped the words even if he had wanted to.

Both boys raised their eyebrows in astonishment.

"Excuse me? What did you say?" Harry wondered.

Ron fidgeted even worse. "I, er... hrm, I actually got kind of turned on by watching you—"

"You were watching us?!" Draco exclaimed with fury.

"Erm, no, only for ten seconds or so... I kind of couldn't take my eyes off you, I... Boy, you two are really hot together. Don't take this the wrong way, but you look bloody sexy together, you two do." He blushed and had to lower his gaze.

Harry regarded him with wariness. "Should we say 'thank you'?" he wondered.

Draco impatiently stamped his foot down twice. "Did you want something or could you please leave us alone so I can continue being pleased by my partner?"

"Draco!"

"What? He bloody interrupted us when we were finally getting to the good part!"

Ron nervously cleared his throat. "Well, I don't really remember why I came here now, so... I'll just leave. Take care."

He left the Malfoy Manor feeling more confused than he ever had in his entire life.

Boy, did he have some thinking to do!

* * *

Draco did get his action – eventually! Around four that afternoon he busied himself with dusting off the coffee tables in the den to get away from the bloody clones. He did not even notice that the fire in the fireplace turned green and that a female shape emerged from it – not until she greeted him.

"Hey, Harry!"

Draco jumped in fright and swirled around. Cho Chang was standing before him. Putting his hand on his chest, he breathed, "Good Merlin, you scared me!"

She took a few steps into the room. "How are you Harry? Are you... alone?" She looked around the room.

Draco dropped the wash cloth. "I'm not Harry, remember. I'm Draco. Piper switched our bodies."

Cho jerked. "What? You're Draco? But how is that possible? I thought you were d..."

Draco's eyes narrowed into thin slits. "You thought I was what?"

She hastily shook the confusion out of her head. "Oh, nothing really. Don't mind me. How are _you_ doing then, Draco? Missing your morning sickness?" She laughed nervously.

Draco snorted. "No, not really. But what do you care?"

"You're right – I don't. To be honest I was hoping you'd be dead by now."

Draco jerked. No... could Cho be the one who had poisoned him a month ago? Was she the one who was trying to kill him? Before he had the chance to ask her straight out, Harry came into the room. When he noticed Cho he lit up. "Cho! What a pleasant surprise!"

Draco did not believe his ears. What?! Harry was being _friendly_ with that wench?

"Hi Harry! You know, you actually make that body look nice..."

"Why, thank you! Would you like some tea?"

"I'd love some, thank you."

Draco stared after them with gaping mouth as they walked into the kitchen. Just a moment later they came back out, Cho holding two cups. "Brought one for you as well, Draco," she said with a friendly smile.

"I don't want to drink that, you're probably just trying to poison me or something," he said sulkily.

"Draco!" Harry exclaimed. "Drink that or I won't make you dinner tonight."

Pouting, Draco took his cup of tea and sipped it carefully. "All right, but it's your fault if I fall down dead."

Nothing weird happened after he had drunk his tea.

So maybe he had been wrong. Maybe it had not been Cho after all.

Not every woman was like Piper when it came down to it...

Two weeks passed without any vomiting or peeing of blood, so Draco felt quite safe in assuming that Cho had wished him no harm. He did not like the fact that Harry was spending more and more time with Cho, though. One moment he told him he did not like her and the next she was his best friend – what was _that_ all about?! And he always got so angry when Draco tried to tell him that he did not like her... _Bugger._

When they finally got one night to themselves without annoying clones or Cho around, someone else just had to come instead.

Ron came running into the parlour with a huge smile on his reddish face. "Hey, you guys! You can never guess what happened to me last night!" he called.

Draco sighed. "No, what?"

Ron stopped just in front of them and almost jumped up and down with excitement. "I got a bloke's number when I was at a gay bar last night!" he told them ecstatically.

It was silent for a while.

"Gay bar?" Harry echoed.

"Yeah! I figured that since you guys got me going some time back and you always seem so happy together and all I ought to try your lifestyle!"

"You actually went to a gay bar for Muggles?"

"Yeah, and I had a blast!"

"But Ron, you're forgetting the most important thing here," Harry protested.

"And what's that?"

"You're not gay."

Ron blinked. "And what would you know?" he asked in offense.

"Well, I'm making that conclusion based on the fact that you were in love with Hermione for almost five years and still were long after she died. It's nice to see you finally trying to get over her and all, but – no offense, mate! – you're not gay."

"Might be bi, though," Draco put in.

"Yeah!" Ron agreed. "I might be bi! You heard him! And I don't care what you think, Harry, 'cause I'm going to try this and see if it works out. This bloke Jonathan really likes me and he's awfully nice and funny, so who knows? Might as well give it a shot, don't you think?"

Harry looked very sceptic.

Draco did a thumbs up. "I say go for it, Ronnie! Make that guy see what an awsome bloke you are!"

"Yeah! I'll go do that right now!"

He went out of the parlour, but came back after only a few seconds.

"Er, Harry, do you think you could show me how a fellytone works?"

_(To be continued...)_

"Boku o michibiku kasukana shiruetto..."

* * *

**_I got a job!! Yaaaaaaay! XD Finally someone called me in for an interview and thought I was a person fit for the job, so I start on Monday and will work until the 10th of August!! This I celebrate with yet another Memory Loss-chapter today! ;P It's a temporary job at a service home for elderly people, and I'm really excited about doing it! I'm finally gonna make some money, muahahahaha! (ehrm...) My dream is to save up a lot of money and go visit all my friends in Japan... And around August 20th I am going back to the university to continue my education to become a high school teacher of English & Swedish! ;) Koukou kyoushi ni narimasu yo! X3_**

**_Read & Review wo kudasai ;)  
Love, Piper_**


	36. And so the tables were turned, part 10

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**Rating:** NC-17

**Pairing:** H/D and R/J

**Disclaimer:** All the characters belong to J.K. Rowling, except my creations Piper, Tom/James, "Joseph"/Timothy, Joz, the Forgettes, Jonathan Kelly, Magami and Yousuke Sakanoue.

**Disclaimer II:** The nickname "Dracums" belongs to Golden. :p

**A/N:** I had so many plans for this chapter, so many juicy things were going to happen - and then Ron stepped in and stole the entire scene! Grrrrr!! But I guess it wasn't that bad... ;) I'll just have to leave all those other juicy things for part 11...

* * *

**And so the tables were turned... (10)**

"My little lamb – come to me..."

He hears her voice so clearly inside his head, and it is mild, inviting, seductive... but she is not in a good mood. Behind that mild tone hides a wrath stronger and more powerful than any human emotion ought to be. He is afraid of her – he does not want to go to her. But she calls, and he must obey. He must come to her.

"My little lamb..."

"Yes, mistress. I am coming," he says aloud, slowly moving along the corridors to the room that she has made her lair. He is shaking from head to toe, knowing what will come the moment he sets foot in that room, but he cannot control his own legs; they keep moving on her command. He is but a puppet in her sick game. And he _will_ do as she wishes. That is what scares him the most – that he will do whatever she wants of him without even blinking. And this time it will not be pretty.

"My little lamb... come sit with your queen, little lamb... come kiss my royal feet!" she cooes from the dark corner in which she resides.

But he does not even reach her feet before he is hit with an electric current so strong that he falls to the floor screaming in agony. The pain... the pain... _the pain..._ Holding his hands to his neck, he tries to bend the ring open but it is impossible. She just increases the voltage and laughs demonically when he thrashes on the floor, his muscles twitching in spasms caused by the strong electrical current.

Right before he passes out from the pain, he can hear her demonic voice whisper close to his ear: "I hope you understand now what happens when you disobey me, little lamb."

* * *

Third date already. Ron was experiencing some confusion and hesitation about the feelings that he was developing for Jonathan Kelly, the med student who had walked up to him at the gaybar last week, because even though he had decided to be experimental and "try the gay lifestyle" he had never really expected to actually _feel_ something! But he was. In the beginning he did not understand why his heart raced every time Jonathan smiled at him, and why he felt so excruciatingly nervous whenever Jonathan came too close, or why he always became so happy when Jonathan called him. Harry had thought it a bit drastic of him to get a cell phone just because he had decided to "play with Muggle boys", but Ron had seen it as a necessity. Like Harry said, he was trying his best to get over Hermione – and had been trying to get over her for the past two years – but now he found that he did not have to try anymore. He _was_ already over her.

Their first date had been quite embarrassing, really. Jonathan had insisted on taking him out to dinner and a movie, but Ron did not have the first clue on what a movie was, not to mention the fact that he had never gone to a Muggle restaurant before. He did not know the first thing about table manners – they had no such thing as "table manners" at the Burrow – and of all places Jonathan had to take him to a French restaurant. How the Hell were you supposed to know what you were ordering if you did not speak bloody French?! Ron had just stared at his menu with sheer terror and wondered what the Hell to do until Jonathan asked him if he needed help. Apparantly he spoke French fluently. Later, when they were going to that movie thingy, Ron had a small seizure when the screen began to move and the stereo sound of automatic fire filled the huge theatre. Poor Jonathan had to take him out of there before the other people in the audience killed them for making such a racket.

"Gee, where did you grow up?!" Jonathan had asked him. "In a bunker?!"

"Er, I'm... I'm from the country," Ron had said apologetically, which was at least half true.

"Oh, I see," Jonathan said. "So you're not used to life in the city, then?"

"No, not quite. I've only been living here for a week, so... sorry."

"It's all right, you don't need to apologise. I should've asked you about it first. So you've never seen a movie at a movie theatre before? Then I bet you've never been to an amusement park, either, am I right?"

"Er... no. What's that?"

"Come on, I'll show you."

And so their first date had sort of turned into their second date as well, and when Jonathan showed him the amusement park Ron found himself having the time of his life. It was so easy to hang out with Jonathan, and he felt totally comfortable with him. As the night went on he discovered that he also felt safe with him, and when Jonathan patiently taught him everything there was to know about amusement parks and attractions and arcade games Ron discovered that he was experiencing an emotional rollercoaster not unlike the ones they rode that night. All of a sudden he was feeling for Jonathan what he had felt for Hermione for so many years – but _different_ somehow.

And now they were on their third date. A restaurant again, but this time Ron was a little more prepared for it. And it was a regular Brittish restaurant. He eyed the menu in good time, but not too long, and then decided on some steak and kidney pie. "An excellent choice," Jonathan said with a pleasant smile, slightly leaning forward over the table. His blue eyes were glimmering as if he had had stars and diamonds in them. Ron found his eyes most attractive, because they were so different from other people's eyes. They were a dark icy blue, but around the pupils they had small rings of light blue that almost made them look like halos. Ron was completely mesmerised by those eyes. Another feature that he really liked about Jonathan's appearance was his straggling brown hair that seemed to live a life of its own. And his smile, of course. He had a warm, lovely smile and perfect white teeth. "What?" he said now, a teasing tone in his melodious voice. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

Ron lowered his gaze, blushing. "I was just... I was just realising how goodlooking you are," he finally admitted. "I've never actually thought of anyone as beautiful before, or even pretty at that, but right now I think you're beautiful." He did not dare look at Jonathan to interpret his reaction.

He felt how Jonathan put his hand on his, and gasped. _Blimey._ He really liked to be touched by him. "Ron, you are the sweetest man I've ever met," he said, and finally Ron found the courage to look up at him. Those stunning icy eyes were sparkling with warmth and something else, something indefinable.

He wound up going to Jonathan's place that night, and he did not feel the least bit awkward about it. A crazy thought hit him: What if Harry had seen me now? He almost started laughing when he imagined the shocked look on Harry's face. But he did not get much time to think that night; almost as soon as they had stepped inside the apartment, Jonathan – who was slightly taller than Ron – bent down and their lips met. A strange tingling stirred up from the pit of Ron's stomach. He dropped his jacket on the floor and threw his arms around Jonathan. He realised that he wanted him, and that he had wanted him for some time now, maybe all night. Driven by the attraction and the physical chemistry between them they desperately let their hands travel down each other's bodies, hungrily exploring muscles and joints.

Ron gasped when Jonathan began to place hot, expectant kisses on his neck. A shiver travelling down his spine, he said, "I-I'm new at this."

Jonathan let his hands slide down the sides of Ron's upper body, finally resting around his hips. "I figured," he said, and gently began to pull Ron's jumper up and off him. "But don't worry, I'll be gentle." Ron's chest now bare, he began to explore it with his lips and his tongue while Ron drove his fingers through his sprawling brown hair, making low squealing noises.

Forcing his vocal chords and his tongue to work properly again, Ron managed to say: "I don't just mean the fact that I'm a virgin... I mean this whole deal with men... I'm new at this, I've never... I've never taken an interest in blokes before, and I—" His words died out in favour of a sudden shout of pleasure that escaped him without his control when Jonathan unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans and swiftly revealed his manhood. When Ron went to the gaybar only a week ago he had not exactly expected to be in this position even a _month_ or a _**year**_ from then, but now he found himself naked in front of this amazing bloke – and he was having an erection! At first he felt embarrassed about it, and his first thought was to cover it up and not let Jonathan see it, but then Jonathan began to suck slowly, and even rookie Ron could tell that he was experienced at this. Suddenly consumed by a world of pleasure that he had had no idea existed up until then, Ron pressed his back to the wall, desperately clutching the doorframe beside him with one hand, and cried out when he came. Breathing fast, he leaned his head back against the wall as the trembles passed.

Jonathan rose from the floor, blotting his chin and lips on the sleeve of his wool jumper. Moving close to Ron, his cheek just lightly brushing against the redhead's, he whispered: "The first times will be real quick for you since you're so inexperienced, but if you're patient I can teach you the art of longevity, handsome."

Ron just stood like that for a moment, catching his breath, then he nodded. Meeting Jonathan's gaze, he said: "I want you to teach me."

Their lips met in another hot kiss that promised many intimate moments in the time to come.

He was led to the bedroom, still naked but no longer feeling awkward about it, and well in there Jonathan encouraged Ron to undress him. With trembling hands Ron slowly, uncertainly, pulled off Jonathan's wool jumper and threw it down on the floor. Nervous and afraid that he might be doing it the wrong way, he semi-caressed, semi-massaged the firm muscles on the other man's chest and stomach, then used his tongue and his lips to explore the wonderful firmness of Jonathan's entire body. The further he went the more confident he became in his moves, and soon he did not have to think so much about what he was doing anymore; it just came naturally to him. Feeling more confident in himself he unzipped Jonathan and pulled the trousers off, too. But when he got to his boxers he became insecure again, hesitated.

Jonathan put his hands around his face and made him look at him. "It's okay, Ron, you don't have to be afraid, you're doing fine, you're brilliant, baby, you're brilliant." Feeling encouraged by the other man's words, he turned to the boxers anew, and without any effort at all pulled them off. Faced by Jonathan's erection he started to tremble again, and he wanted to take it in his mouth, wanted so bad to make Jonathan feel what he had felt only minutes ago, but when he was just about to close his mouth around it he exploded again. With a pitiful whail, he contracted as his second orgasm ever shook him. He looked up at Jonathan with apologetic eyes.

Jonathan was smiling at him, not angry or annoyed or disappointed at all. "That's to be expected, Ron," he assured him. "Happens to every bloke the first time. Now, come here." He patted on the spot beside him.

Ron obediently crawled up to him, lay beside him, gazing deep into those startling blue eyes. He closed his eyes and opened his mouth in a silent plea when Jonathan began to kiss him all over again, this time moving much faster down his chest and stomach until he reached his nether regions. Then he quickly worked his way back up, trying to make it as comfortable for Ron as possible. Ron just tensed and steeled himself, because he knew what would come, he knew the feeling that was rising from inside of him now, but he did not want to... did not want to... not yet...

Too late. He had ejaculated a third time. At least this time it had taken more than fifteen seconds to get there.

Jonathan was settling on top of him now. "I think you're ready now," he was saying, but Ron hardly heard him. He was still panting from his last orgasm, but he was anxious to have another one. He could not for his life understand why he had not tried anything like this earlier, or why Harry had not even once told him how incredibly wonderful this was. He loved it. He absolutely loved it. He never wanted to go back to courting girls who were oblivious of his infatuation with them – never! He wanted to stay there with Jonathan forever, because the emotions that the other man stirred up inside of him were not entirely emotions caused by the sexual satisfaction he was experiencing, but they were emotions of happiness, of love-to-be. He could love Jonathan, he really could. And, oh, how he already loved his body and his moves...

Drawing a few shallow breaths of anticipation, Ron said, "Yes, I'm ready, I'm ready, I'm ready..."

Jonathan carefully entered him and gently began to move inside of him. It was a weird feeling, but a good one. When he saw that Ron was still okay Jonathan moved a bit faster and more determinedly, shifted his approach a little – and that seemed to do it for Ron. Suddenly his every nerve exploded with wonderful, intense emotions, and he cried out again. But to his surprise he did not come immediately but managed to hold on for a moment longer. Filled up with the tingling-sparkling-shuddering of utter pleasure, Ron unconsciously rose to receive the thrusts, his body arched and tensed beneath Jonathan. For a moment their eyes met, and sparks of electricity seemed to shoot between them; Ron could see that even Jonathan was closing in now, and desperately tried his best to hold on so they could come together. Both desperate to fulfil their physical and intimate union, both high and intoxicated by the sweetness and the wonder of the first trembling stage of a new relationship, they moved ever faster. Ron could not hold on much longer now... he shouted out his pleasure in short "ah, ah, ah"-s, his eyelashes fluttering, his entire body shuddering. And just when he let go and succumbed to the orgasm, Jonathan came too, screaming out Ron's name as he stiffened and sprayed a hot stickiness into Ron.

They both collapsed in a pile of exhausted flesh, sticky with sweat and panting. Jonathan closed his arms around Ron in a tight and possessive embrace, and Ron affectionately kissed the inside of his elbow. "How are you feeling?" Jonathan asked tenderly.

A smile spread on Ron's face. "I feel bloody exhilarated," he said with honesty. "I've never experienced anything that came even close to this wonderful before. And I feel so happy just lying here with you right now... Blimey, I never thought I'd feel this way about a bloke."

He snuggled closer into the embrace.

Jonathan kissed the back of his head. "If you've never been interested in blokes, then why did you go to a gaybar?" he wondered with curiousity.

Ron thought about it for a while. "First I thought it was just to forget someone, but now I realise that it was so much more than that. You see, there was this girl that I loved for the longest time, but she never even noticed. She never cared about my emotions. And when she died I was devastated, I didn't know what to do. It took me the longest time to get over her – I didn't even think I _was_ over her when I met you, but you made me realise that I already had forgotten about her. Well, not 'forgotten' in the sense that I don't remember her, but..."

"I understand," Jonathan said quietly. "I'm sorry for your loss, Ron. It must have hurt so bad."

"It did. She... She was murdered."

"Murdered?"

"Yeah. But to get back to your question... You remember me telling you about my friend Harry, don't you? Well, he's been living together with his boyfriend for three years now. They've always been really close, and I've always kind of envied them for the love they share. It's so strong. Nothing could ever break those two up. And a few weeks back I sort of walked in on them... they weren't naked or anything, but they were getting ready to get naked, if you know what I mean..."

Jonathan laughed. "I think I can see where this is going," he said with amusement.

Ron laughed, too. "Yeah, I was actually turned on by just seeing them like that, and I thought it was really embarrassing. But I started to think, you know. What if I was into boys, too? I couldn't deny the fact that I had been in love with Hermione for so long, but I couldn't deny the fact that I was curious about guys, either. So I went to a gaybar."

"And found me," Jonathan put in.

"More like _you_ found _me_," Ron corrected. "But yes. To be honest with you I never expected it to go anywhere, I was just thinking of it as a sort of experiment. But my plan didn't work quite as I had thought. I actually felt something for you, even from the beginning. And now I'm certain that I'm falling for you – for real." He lay in silence for a while. Then he said: "Do you think I'm a hypocrite?"

"A hypocrite? No, why would I think that?"

"Well, since I started dating you for all the wrong reasons and here I am thinking I might actually love you."

Jonathan pressed closer and kissed the back of his head again. "That doesn't bother me at all, Ron. You were honest and told me, and I appreciate that. And about falling for me... I'm bloody glad you are, because for me it was love at first sight. I've loved you from the very first moment, Ron. I'm so happy I got you at last." Another loving kiss.

Ron smiled to himself. The irony of his new situation soothed him. He was spooning with a guy – naked! – and he was not feeling the least bit awkward about it. He actually loved it.

When he woke up in Jonathan's arms he felt bloody wonderful, and when he recalled last night his heart began to pound like crazy. Jonathan was already awake, and it seemed as if he had been watching him sleeping for quite some time. Ron would have felt awkward about that had it been anyone else than Jonathan doing that, but this particular man could watch him all he wanted; it was just cute. "Good morning, sleepy-head," he murmured and kissed him.

Ron sighed with happiness. "Will it be like this every morning now?"

"I sure hope so!" Jonathan said, and laughed. They kissed again. "I would like to meet this Harry that you keep talking so much about."

Ron was not the least bit surprised about that. "Sure, that should be no problem. Let me just go over to his place today and ask him about it. I'm sure he'd love to meet you when I tell him that I've actually found love for myself."

"Great. Then we can have a double date."

"Yeah, that'd be fun. I'm sure Harry and Draco could host it... Draco loves to cook, and he's bloody good at it, too."

"Your best friend's boyfriend is called Draco?"

"Yeah. Draco Malfoy, can you imagine? It's like the silliest name in the world."

"Almost, yeah. Well, if you're going to see your friend you'd better hurry – and I have studies to do. I'll meet you back here at seven, all right?" He stole a kiss. "Key's on the chest of drawers over there."

* * *

Joseph almost scared the shit out of Draco when he appeared all of a sudden out of thin air and grabbed his arm. Draco screamed in fright and jerked loose. Then he recognised the boy before him. Putting a hand on his chest in an attempt to calm his racing heart, he said, "Fuck you! How dare you scare me like that!" He prepared to continue through the den to the kitchen where he had been heading before being interrupted, but the boy grabbed his arm again. Draco moaned in irritation and turned around to face him. "What now?"

He fell silent when he saw the empty expression on the blond boy's face and shivered. His green eyes were completely dead; there was no sign of emotion in them. It was eerie, and Draco had a bad feeling about it. He was just about to ask Joseph what the Hell he was doing when he noticed that the blond boy was holding a butcher knife in his other hand – and he was slowly, successively raising it above his head.

Draco gasped in fear and tried to get away from him, but the boy was strong. Panic rising from within, he yelled for Harry. The boy prepared himself for the stab, and the shadow of a deranged smile temporarily distorted his face. "Say goodbye to the past, Draco," he whispered threateningly.

"HAAARRYYYY! HAARRYYY!"

His lover came running in the last second, and when he saw Joseph towering over Draco he stopped dead inside the door. "Accio knife!" he yelled, and the butcher knife flew out of Joseph's hand. But the blond boy did not even blink; instead he swiftly put his hands around Draco's neck and squeased as hard as he could. Draco did not even have time to react and duck. With fright he felt the air being cut off from his lungs, and he started to panic for real. He looked over at Harry and tried to signal with his eyes that he wanted him to save him _but spare the boy_, _don't hurt the boy!_

Harry ran over to them and tried to bend up Joseph's hands. "What are you doing?!" he yelled. "Let go of him!"

But the boy did not seem to hear him. He was just staring at Draco, unblinking. As if he was in a trance.

Harry began to cry. "Stop it! Stop it, goddammit! You're killing him! Please, stop it... _stop it_..."

Draco's line of sight was swiftly being covered by a thick, oily blackness. He needed air...

Harry was now hitting Joseph on the back. "Stop it! Stop it! What the Hell are you doing, you damn brat?! Are you going to kill your father? Huh? Are you going to kill your own father?! _Stop it!_"

Suddenly something changed in Joseph's eyes, and it was as if he woke up from some sort of somnambulic state and saw the world around him for the first time. He blinked a few times, then he seemed to realise what he was doing and let go of Draco.

He fell to the floor without the strength to get back up on his own. He desperately gasped for breath, wheezing like a hissing snake.

Harry was staring at Joseph with wariness in his emerald eyes.

The boy fell down on his knees and buried his face in his hands. "I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry," he said. "I didn't mean it, I was under her control... I'm so sorry..."

Shaken by what had just happened, Draco unsteadily got up from the floor, holding one hand to his neck. With a nervous smile, he said, "Excuse me, I just need to go wash up a bit," and left the room. He went to the third floor master bathroom for some privacy and splashed cold water onto his face. What had just happened down there? Why had Joseph tried to kill him all of a sudden? And who was this elusive "she"? He reached for the Aspirin in the medicine cabinet—

_SNAP._

—he looked at the face gazing back at him in the mirror and felt rage rising from within like a surge of hot lava. What was _his_ face doing on him? He touched his cheek with two fingers. Yes, it was his face alright. But how...? The last thing he remembered was bringing Potter back to the Manor for his fake initiation ceremony, but he could not remember whether or not he had actually killed him. He guessed not considering that he was now bearing Potter's face. For some reason he must have taken over Potter's identity, but he could not for his life understand why. He was a Death Eater – why would he want to look like Harry Potter?

Insistent on finding out exactly what he was up to, he left the bathroom – his father's private bathroom in which he was not allowed – and walked down the hall to his bedroom. Inside the door, he stopped. Stared at the sight that met him. The room looked exactly like he remembered it, but there was a major difference; there were evidently two people living in there nowadays. And the other person seemed to be no-one else but their dear little Potter. Disgusted and furious, he stared at the pictures on the wall, all of them of him and Potter looking all happy and lovey-dovey. When had all _that_ happened? _**How**_ had all that happened?

"I'll kill you for this, Potter," he said in a low hiss, and turned to walk out of the door—

_SNAP._

—but suddenly he was not standing in the bathroom anymore, but in their bedroom, apparently on his way out of the door. Confused he turned a few turns and tried to figure out how the Hell he had got there. _Must've been the shock of the murder attempt_, he thought and headed for the first floor. As he reached the bottom of the stairs he heard voices coming out of the parlour.

"Ron, it's been a week! How can you know something like that after only a week?!" Harry was saying in an irritated tone.

"How could _you_ know something like that after only a week?" Ron retorted.

So, they had visitors now?

Harry sighed. "It wasn't like that, and it's a completely different matter."

"Oh, it is, huh? How is my relationship different from yours?"

_Relationship?_ Draco thought. _Ron's got a girlfriend?_

He stepped into the parlour just in time to see Harry sit down on the arm of the couch. "Ron, you don't understand. I _didn't_ know after just one week – it took a whole lot more time than that. It didn't take me just a week – it took me _two years _to understand who I was and what I wanted. But the point is I knew that I was gay all along, I just didn't admit it to myself. You're not gay, Ron, no matter how much you try to make yourself believe that."

Draco looked from one to the other in confusion. "What's all this talk about being gay or not?"

Harry shot him a quick glance. "Ron claims to have a boyfriend," he explained impatiently.

Draco was drop-jawed. "What? Is this true, Ron?"

"Yeah!" Ron said violently. "I have a boyfriend! So what?"

"I'm happy for you, Ron! What's his name? What's he like?" Draco sat down on the couch, ready for all the details like a true girl scout.

Harry glared at him incredulously. "You're not going to support him in this, are you?" he asked.

"Why not? If the bloke is happy, then let him be happy. And if he's happy together with another bloke, then let him be happy together with another bloke."

Ron clapped his hands together for dramatical effect. "Thank you!"

Harry shot up from the couch. "But you're not gay! Get that into your tiny little head!"

"I know I'm not gay!" Ron shouted back. "But what's to say I'm not bisexual, huh? I've been dating Jonathan for a week only, yes, but I know what I'm feeling! He makes me feel happy, and he makes me feel good about myself! My heart jumps every time he's near me, and I can't take my eyes off him. I think of him all the time, and I dream about him when I sleep, and I bloody Hell enjoyed sleeping with him too!"

Draco gasped. "You _slept_ with him?! Oh, Ronnie... congratulations! You're finally a man!"

"Draco, this is hardly a time to be joking!" Harry warned, his face red with anger.

"I am not joking, I'm truly happy for our 'ickle Ronniekins. If he's even slept with the bloke he must be genuinely into him. A bloke can't just fuck another bloke without feeling something for him. That if anything should be a sign that Ron isn't straight, so what are you arguing for? Can't you be happy for your best friend? I would have been euphoric if it had been Blaise delivering those news!"

"Don't bloody bring up bloody Blaise again!"

Draco slammed his fist down onto the coffee table. "Harry! Listen to yourself! You're taking this way too personally. Now go out into the kitchen and make us all some tea, and then we can talk about this once you've calmed down. Think of the baby. Whenever you're boiling with anger the baby's boiling with anger, too. It's not good for his health."

Harry muttered something inaudible and shuffled out to the kitchen.

Draco turned his attention to Ron again. "So, tell me. Who is he? What's he like?"

Ron sat down in the armchair opposite him. "His name's Jonathan and he's 22. He's a med student!"

Draco gasped. "No way!"

"I know!" Ron said with emphasis. "And he's like the most wonderful bloke there is! He's always taking me places I've never been, and he's taught me so much about Muggles and Muggle life... but I haven't told him I'm a wizard, of course. He thinks I'm from the countryside and that's why I don't know anything about Muggle stuff. Last night we had dinner at a restaurant—"

"Oh, don't you find that just amazing how they always do everything with their hands instead of using spells?" Draco put in.

"Yeah, I know! It seems so unnecessary, but I guess it turns them on. Anyway, Jonathan brought me back to his place and right after he'd closed the door behind us we kind of 'gave in to our desires', if you know what I mean." They laughed knowingly. "It was crazy, but it was like we'd just been waiting for that moment all night, and when we were finally alone we could not control ourselves anymore. We did things I never would've imagined doing in this life. He totally made me aware of what I've been missing all this time..." A dreamy smile spread across his face.

Draco was smiling, too. "Isn't it lovely?" he agreed. "Did you have a real first-time-orgie? I hear it's always quite desperate in the beginning of a relationship. Never happened to me and Harry, though. We took it quite easy at the beginning, it's only now that we've turned into rabbits." He laughed and looked up as Harry entered the room with a tray of teacups and biscuits. "Harry and I make love at least five times a day, don't we babe?"

"Mmm, yeah, five times a day and seven times a night," Harry agreed, smiling kinkily.

For the first time ever Ron was not disgusted at hearing them discussing sex. He actually laughed and nodded. "Yeah, we were quite crazy last night... I was kind of embarrassed since I had no experience, and I..."

"Came too soon?" Draco filled in for him. "Yeah, know the feeling. At least Harry and I were both starters at the same time, I can't imagine how it would feel to have your debut with someone who's really experienced."

"Oh, Jonathan is experienced!" Ron exclaimed. "He knew exactly where to touch me to make me scream! And his moves..." He did not need to say anymore. Draco made jubilant noises and winked at Ron. Did a thumbs up.

Harry looked from Ron to Draco and then back. "Am I the only one who feels embarrassed about talking about this?" he asked them uncomfortably.

Draco ignored him and skipped right to the next important question. With a sly grin, he said, "What about his package? Is he well built?"

Harry wanted to sink through the ground.

But Ron did not seem to mind the questions. He just grinned back. "Ooooh, you should see the muscles on that bloke! He works out at some kind of gum—"

"Gym," Harry corrected, "it's called a gym."

"Whatever. He works out five times a week and he still has time for his med studies! I think it's amazing that he's so dedicated to his dream, wants to become a doctor and all... I just can't believe I had the privilege of meeting him – let alone get him for my private sex teacher!"

He and Draco laughed out loud like two teenage girls, and Harry could not understand the charm in discussing one's personal life – let alone one's _sex life _– with other people. And he sure as Hell did not like that Draco was talking openly about theirs.

"So, when can we meet him?" Draco asked excitedly. "I have to see this super hunk!"

"Well, actually that's what I came here to talk to you about," Ron said, turning serious. "Jonathan wants to meet you guys, too. I talk about you all the time, I guess, and he wants to see what kind of people you are. When are you free?"

"Try every single night for the rest of our lives!"

"Great. Then we'll decide on a day to come here, then," Ron stated, and made to stand up.

Draco frowned. "Here? You mean invite him over to our place?"

"Yeah, that was the plan."

"Are you out of your mind?!" Harry exclaimed. "Are you going to bring your Muggle boyfriend to a mansion that totally lacks any kind of Muggle conveniences and is filled with magical paraphernalia? That is the stupidest idea you have ever had, Ron! Think again!"

Draco hit Harry on the head. "Is that really everything you worry about? That he's going to get suspicious because we don't have 'Muggle conveniences'? What about all the other strange things that's always going on around here! Like, oh, I don't know, the fact that this house is also inhabited by the six clones my sister accidentally created and now can't get rid of, or my _real_ sister who always makes stuff blow up and constantly puts spells on me, or our son who has a knack for disappearing just like that, _or how about the fact that you and I are in each other's bodies?? _Ever think of _that_, Harry?!"

"Don't yell at me, it was Ron's idea!" Harry defended himself.

Draco turned to Ron. "No offense, Ron, but you can't invite Jonathan over to our place. I'm not even sure he should see Harry at all at the time."

Harry snapped. "Hey! What the fuck's that supposed to mean?!"

Draco rolled his eyes. "Duh! You're pregnant! Ever heard of male Muggles being pregnant? Because as far as I know it's impossible. Sure, we could try to cover up your pregnancy by making you look fat, we could leave James with Ron's parents for the night, we could lock up the clones in the attic and tell Piper to stay an extra night in Japan and fuck Yousuke blue, but do you honestly think that that would help? It's no insurance of anything, Harry. Jonathan might still witness something he shouldn't. And what about Joseph? He keeps popping in now and then, so who's to say he won't pop in when Jonathan's here?"

Harry shook his head. "He won't come here anymore. Said he was too embarrassed to after that incident before."

Ron frowned. "Who's Joseph?"

"The baby Harry's carrying," Draco explained, "he comes to see us from the future now and then. Don't ask how and why because we don't know."

"Okay..."

"Now, about this Jonathan business... If you want him to meet us, you have to tell him everything or else it won't happen," Draco said forthrightly. "About you and us being wizards, about the existence of magic in the world, about the body switch and the preganancy and the clones and every other insane thing in this insane family. That's the only alternative. There are too many risks with not telling him and just hoping that nothing would happen. Someone might even come in through the fire while we're having dinner, who know's?"

For a moment Ron looked scared and uncertain, but then he collected himself and nodded. "All right. I'll tell him I'm a wizard. What happens happens, right? Nothing I can do about it. If he really loves me he'll understand, right?"

"Just remember that you have to put a Memory Charm on him in case he reacts too strongly to what you have to say," Harry pointed out.

Ron nodded again. Looked at his watch. "Listen, Jonathan won't be back until seven, and it's only three o'clock. Can I stay here for a while and prepare myself emotionally? I might need a little more encouragement and conviction before I leave."

"Certainly, mate," Draco said. "We'll encourage you all you want."

"We'll support you," Harry agreed.

Ron gave them both a smile of gratitude.

(_To be continued...)_

"Boku o michibiku kasuka-na shiruetto..."

* * *

**_Well, here's a new chappie for you guys. :D Did you like it?? Somehow, whenever I write a story, one after another the male characters turn gay... or bi, like Ron here, hehe. ;P But I just love male-male romance & sexual themes that much. I'm a total sucker for 801!! X3_**

**_Read & review, please!  
Love, Piper_**


	37. And so the tables were turned, part 11

**Rating: **PG-17/OOC/mpreg

**Pairing:** H/D and R/J

**Disclaimer:** All the characters belong to J.K. Rowling, except for my creations Piper, Tom/James, "Joseph"/Timothy, Joz, Jonathan Kelly, the Forgettes, The Other, Magami and Yousuke Sakanoue.

**Disclaimer II:** The lovely nickname "Dracums" belongs to Golden. Great work, love! ;)

**Author's note:** Okay, in this part a lot is going to happen. Timothy will finally find the spark that he needs to break free of Joz's influence, Ron will tell his loverboy everything, Draco will have more blackouts, Cho will try even harder to get Draco out of the way, and Harry-in-the-future will ask his son the toughest favour you can imagine... So the big question is: will I be able to pull everything off, or will this continue all the way into part 12??

**Author's note II:** Positivists believe only in hard facts and logic – things that can be proved by trial and error. Hermeneutics – or humanists – believe that there is more to everything than what our five senses and logic can explain, they believe that humans can understand almost everything if they just have a little empathy. Positivism and hermeneutics are two different scientific beliefs, like Judeism and Christianity are two different religious beliefs.

* * *

**And so the tables were turned... (11)**

It was the hardest thing he had ever done, surely the hardest thing he had ever done, and he had never been as nervous as he was then. He steeled himself before he turned the key and stepped inside the apartment. Oddly enough it did not feel weird to just walk in as if he lived there himself; he felt at home there. It flattered him that Jonathan trusted him enough after just knowing him for a week to give him his own key. Would he still trust him after learning the truth about Ron?

The moment he had closed the door behind him he heard footsteps coming towards him. Jonathan appeared in the doorway that led to the living room with a pleasant smile on his lips. "Hey, Ron," he said, and Ron totally melted when he heard the affection in his melodious voice. "Your friend okay? You had a good trip?"

It was already past seven; he had deliberately waited until he was certain that Jonathan would be home to avoid the risk of hesitation and insecurity if he had to wait there alone for him. He forced himself to smile as he kicked off his shoes. "He was just fine, thank you, and I had a wonderful time. The west country is always as beautiful."

"The west country? Your friend lives all the way over there? But how on Earth did you manage to go all the way there and back in just one day and still have time to spend with your friend?" Jonathan asked in perplexion.

Ron fidgeted nervously. "Yeah, that's sort of part of what I want to talk to you about...," he said slowly, finding it hard to meet Jonathan's gaze.

The other man knitted his eyebrows in suspicion and concern. "Talk to me about? What do you mean? This doesn't sound very good, Ron."

Ron sighed. "I know. Look, can we go into the living room and just talk for a while? There is something I really, really need to tell you before we commit too much to this relationship. And don't worry, it's got nothing to do with you, it's not like I'm breaking up or anything – it's got everything to do with me and my background."

They took a seat on the couch, and Ron calmly took Jonathan's hand in his. Looking deep into his stunning blue eyes, he took a deep breath and said: "What I'm going to tell you might come as a shock, but I have to tell you if we're going to be together. And besides, it was a condition to come to Harry's and have dinner, so... here goes nothing." He steeled himself and took another deep breath. Closing his eyes, he just blurted it right out: "I'm a wizard."

The apartment was completely quiet for several seconds.

Then Jonathan said: "What?"

Ron forced himself to look at him. He was regarding him with bewilderment and lack of understanding. That was understandable, of course. "I'm a wizard. This isn't something I'm just making up – witches and wizards very much exist, and so does magic, I will prove it to you later. But first I need you to keep an open mind, all right? I know that doctors don't really believe in the supernatural and all, I know you guys mostly rely on science and known facts – you're positivists – but please do try to keep an open mind? Magic has existed for all of time, just like witches and wizards have always practiced magic without normal peoples knowledge. We call non-magic people Muggles, so I'm going to stick to that term, okay? We live quite withdrawn lives away from the Muggles, and we have special schools for all children with magical powers and gifts. We also have our own Ministry, which is hidden beneath the streets of London. All wizard facilities are hidden from Muggles with the help of different repelling spells and suchlike, all to ensure the safety of our world."

He made a pause to study Jonathan's facial expression. He could not interpret the look in his eyes. So he went on. "I'm from a long line of hardworking and struggling wizards, and the reason why I'm not very familiar with life in the city is because we don't have the same things that you Muggles have. We don't have restaurants or movie theatres or amusement parks or even regular mail services. We send all our mail by owl post, we write with quills on parchment, and we use magic for most of our daily chores so we don't really need cities. We're all over the world, but we always hide our true identities to Muggles not to risk the exposure of our world. And the reason why I'm telling you all this right now is... well, I really like you, and I believe that we can build a special relationship and a very special life together – I don't want to ruin that. But I'm not ready to give up my life and my magic just because I've fallen for a Muggle. No offense, Jonathan."

Jonathan was silently studying him, apparently trying to decide whether to believe him or not. Ron hoped that he would find it in his heart to believe him and forgive him for not being honest from the start, and he hoped that he would be able to love him even though he was so much different from him. Ron did not want last night to be the _only_ night they shared together. He was really starting to like Jonathan a lot. Clearing his throat, Jonathan said, "So pretty much what you're saying is that you're some sort of sorceror, and that you do magic for a living – is that it?"

"Yeah, pretty much."

"I'm sorry, Ron, but that's just too incredible for me to accept just like that. Like you said, I believe in science and hard facts – I'm a positivist. Basically, what you're asking me to do is forget all about that and become a hermeneutic instead? You want me to just believe in anything?"

Ron sighed with resignation. "I was afraid you'd react this way. But at least you're not about to burn me at a bloody stake, so maybe I should be happy." He was silent for a while; thought his situation over. Then, he said, "But if I could present you with hard facts, then would you believe me?"

Jonathan considered his offer. "Yes, I guess I would. But can you really do that? Because as much as I doubt it, you might be a delirious sociopath and this might just be psychobabble, and in that case you wouldn't be able to present any facts at all, now would you?"

Ron rose from the couch. "I'm going to get my old school books from home, so wait here, okay? And don't get all freaked out at how I leave because it's not as dangerous as it might look – I do it all the time. Usually I would prefer a fireplace, but you have none so I'll just have to Apparate instead."

"What are you rambling about?" Jonathan asked in confusion.

"This," Ron said and Disapparated right in front of his astonished eyes. He swiftly travelled to his room at the Burrow and picked up a few things – a few of his old magic books, a quill, a roll of parchment, some chocolate frogs, his wand, his favourite travelling cloak, and his racing broom – and went straight back to Jonathan's apartment. It was a bit difficult to bring everything at once, but with some organisation he managed quite well. When he Apparated before Jonathan again with a loud _POP!_ the other man stared at him with his mouth hanging open. Ron simply ignored him and set up his things on the big coffee table. He picked up his wand and prepared to use a few simple spells to prove his story true to Jonathan. He gave his boyfriend a challenging look. "Are you ready to plunge into the reality of Ronald Wealey?" he asked.

The other man just nodded numbly and leant forward slightly.

Ron explained that he was going to perform a few simple spells that he had learnt at school. The first one he used was the Illumination Spell: _Lumos_. Jonathan stared at the tip of Ron's wand as it shone. "We don't need any torches in the magical world," he said simply. "And it's just as easy to make it go away. _Nox_." The light went out of the wand. "Now I'm going to make my quill levitate. Watch." He concentrated hard. "_Wingardium Leviosa_." He let it hover in the air for a few seconds before uttering the reversal spell. "Are you starting to believe me yet?"

Jonathan nodded numbly again. "This is fantastic," he said in awe. "What else can you do?"

Ron grinned. "I can fly," he said. "But I'm not sure I can do it in here, your ceiling's too low. But maybe if I try to expand the space... My father used to do this all the time when he was driving us all to King's Cross Station to get us on the train to Hogwarts – that's our school," he added. "I don't know if I remember the charm, though... hang on." He used his wand to flip through the pages in one of his magic books. "Ah! Here it is. 'Expanding-Space Charm.' Let's see." He directed his wand at the ceiling. "_Expando sphero_!" Immediately the room became twenty feet higher in ceiling.

Jonathan shot up from the couch. "No! What did you do?! Make it go back to normal before anyone sees it!" he shouted.

Ron laughed. "Relax, Jonathan. It's not visible from the outside. I told you wizards are good at hiding things. I'll change it back as soon as I've shown you my broomstick."

"Your broomstick? Get out! Witches flying on brooms is just myth!"

"Is it?" Ron mounted his broom and kicked off from the floor. He immediately shot up into the air and took a few turns around it. Then he went back down and stretched out his hand towards Jonathan. "Wanna go for a ride?"

He seemed very hesitant about it.

"Don't worry, it's perfectly safe. Come on, it's fun."

He sat behind Ron with his arms desperately clung to him, and they were off. After a while Jonathan relaxed, and soon he was shouting jubilantly like a small child, completely taken away by the speed of Ron's broom.

Thirty minutes later – when Ron had explained everything to him and showed him how everything worked – Jonathan put his arm around Ron's shoulder and said: "I believe you, Ron. Man, who would have thought that I of all people would fall in love with such a special man? You have to teach me everything there is to know about your world, and I'll teach you everything about mine in return. And, most important of all, you _have_ to introduce me to your friends now!"

"All right, but let me warn you: Nothing you have witnessed here today will prepare you for what you might witness at the Malfoy Manor. Harry and Draco live completely separated from the Muggle society and they fully trust in magic and nothing else. Harry grew up with Muggles, but Draco is from a very respected old wizard family which has had great power and wealth for centuries. He has no understanding for Muggle stuff or Muggle life, so they don't bother about that. And right now they're not exactly themselves..."

Jonathan knitted his brows. "What do you mean?"

"Well, you see... Draco has an older sister who has a knack for making up her own spells and potions, but sometimes they backfire... Right now Draco's pregnant with their second child—"

"_What?!_"

"—but they have also switched bodies, so the pregnant one will now be Harry."

"Excuse me, but could you take that again, please?"

"Draco's older sister Piper created a potion that enables men to get pregnant and she tried the first formula on Draco without his knowledge about two years ago, so they have a one-and-a-half-years-old son now – James. Five months ago she used the potion on Draco again and made him pregnant for the second time. Then, about two months ago, Piper was practicing a few new spells that she had written and one of them backfired and somehow Harry and Draco switched bodies. Harry's in Draco's pregnant body and Draco's in Harry's body. You'll get the hang of it soon. Oh, I almost forgot! Another one of Piper's spells backfired a month ago and she accidentally cloned herself seven times. The real Piper always wears black, so ignore the other seven, all right? Oh, and James vanishes sometimes, it's no big deal, he always comes back. And the baby that Draco is currently carrying sometimes visits them from the future to see how they're doing. That should be all. Got it?"

Jonathan stared at him in utter terror. "Okay... sure..."

* * *

Cho was getting impatient. Was the potion working? She wanted to go over to the Manor and check for herself, but she was afraid to seem suspicious if she came to visit too often. The Influencial Potion worked well on Harry, anyway, he was really warming up to her. If Draco started to suspect anything and told Harry about his speculations Harry would take her in defense at all times, and he would not believe anything bad of Cho whatsoever. He would also see her as one of his closest friends even if he hated her in reality. As far as she knew, nothing could break that spell.

But she did not know about the potion she had given Draco, though. The poison obviously had not worked, so she was really glad that Piper had helped her with all those alternative potions. Obviously she had thousands of different potions stored up in her room, and she had willingly given Cho a few samples in case the poison did not work. What she had now given him was a potion custom designed for Draco that Piper had made many years ago but never intended to use – Cho wondered why she had suddenly changed her mind, but as long as it could be used in her favour she would not complain. Considering all that leather and all the horrible piercings Piper had been wearing that day, Cho guessed that she had lost her mind completely.

The potion was supposed to awaken Draco's Malfoy genes and give him a second personality that was so vicious that even He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named would seem like an innocent little kitten in comparison. If it was working as it should, Draco should be experiencing some strange blackouts and loss of memory. In the beginning, his second personality would only surface occasionally and on very short occasions, but eventually it would happen more frequently until it took over entirely. Knowing the stubborn and proud Draco, Cho was confident that he would not tell anyone about his blackouts – not even Harry. In due time Draco would break them up for all eternity, and Cho would get her revenge.

* * *

Draco was the one who opened the window for Hedwig and retrieved the post that morning. "Harry!" he called once he had gone through it. "Letter from Ron!"

_SNAP._

So that was how it worked. He was merely a second personality trapped inside the "real" Draco Malfoy's body – or, should he say trapped in Potter's body? Fortunately he remained aware of Draco's actions and thoughts while he was just lying in wait in the background, but Draco was never aware of his actions. Good. That was exactly what he wanted. In order for him to kill Potter and avenge his lost evil soul and the murders on his parents he would need Draco to stay put in the back of his head while he did it. But not yet. First he needed to find a way to get his own body back, because he did not want to be trapped inside Potter for all of eternity. Looking down at the letter in his hand, a vicious sneer distorted his face. He ripped it apart and let the pieces sift down onto the floor.

_SNAP._

Harry came in through the archway. Draco noticed that the letter was no longer in his hand, but actually on the floor in shreds. What the...? How had that happened? He had no memory of dropping it – let alone ripping it apart!

"Where's the letter?" Harry asked in expectation.

Draco did not know what to say. Had he done that? Ripped Ron's letter into tiny little pieces?

Harry notices the shreds on the floor. "Oh no! What happened?" He stooped to pick them up.

Draco bit his lip and feverishly ransacked his mind for the best possible response. "He-Hedwig was in a playful mood, and she kind of o-overdid it," he stuttered after a few seconds' silence.

Harry did not notice, thank Merlin. He just used a simple spell to put the letter back together and read it out loud to Draco: "'I've told Jonathan that I'm a wizard, and he took it amazingly well, he believed me right away. Now he wants to meet you even more since I've told him about some of the madness at the Manor. Prepare for two extra dinner guests tonight, we'll arrive at seven. Ron.' That's good to know, I was actually kind of worried about that."

"Mmm, yeah, me too," Draco mumbled.

Harry looked up at him. "Dracums, are you all right? You sound strange somehow. Something happen?"

"No. Nothing at all. Well, if we're going to have dinner guests tonight I better go check what's in the fridge... Excuse me."

Harry looked after him in concern. Something was wrong; he could feel it. But he had no time to devote to figuring out what, because he was not alone anymore. When he turned around, a boy of about sixteen with bright blue eyes and really lustrous dark-brown hair stood next to him. This boy was wearing dark grey slacks and a moss green jumper. Frowning, Harry said, "Who are you?"

The boy took a step towards him. "I have come for The Other," he said with an astonishingly deep voice for such a young boy.

Harry did not understand what the boy was talking about. "There is no 'other' here," he said warily.

The boy hesitated. "But I can sense his presence here," he objected. "I'm sure he was here just a moment ago."

Harry noticed that the boy was speaking with an American accent. "I swear, there is no 'other' here. I don't know who you're talking about."

The boy studied him for a while. Then he nodded. "Okay. You're telling the truth. Maybe I traveled to the wrong time. I apologize for the inconvenience I may have caused you."

The next moment he was gone.

* * *

He cannot believe that he almost killed Draco in the past – just because he was acting on her evil orders. Never will he listen to her evil orders again; he will resist for as long as he can, and if he cannot break through she will just have to kill him like she killed the others because he won't do her dirty deeds anymore.

"Timothy, are you all right?"

He looks up at Harry, who has just entered the room.

A solitary tear slowly runs down his right cheek. "No. I almost did something stupid, Harry. I don't want to do stupid things anymore. I just want to break free of her slavery and find The Other so I can live a happy, quiet life in peace."

Harry frowns. "'The other'? I've heard someone else mention that term..."

Timothy stiffens. "What? You have? When? And from whom?"

Harry tries to remember. "I think it was somewhere around Draco's second pregnancy... Yes, that's right. During the body switch. I remember it because it was the same day Ron introduced us to his boyfriend. This boy just showed up at the Manor asking me about 'the other', but I never really understood what he meant."

Timothy stares at his father in disbelief. "He came to look for me?" he breathes.

"Who did?" Harry asks in lack of understanding.

"The Other!" Timothy exclaimed impatiently. "What did he say exactly?"

"Not much. He just asked me where 'the other' was, and when I told him I didn't know he apologised for the inconvenience and left. Said something about 'travelling to the wrong time' or something like that. What is this about, Timmy?"

"He is searching for me. Must be. I made that trip only five minutes ago. He must have been on my tail for some time now, and he took a chance that he might find me where he sensed me last."

"I don't understand any of this rambling," Harry says in bewilderment.

Timothy rises from the sofa and crosses the room.

He can feel Harry following him with his eyes.

"Where're you going?"

He looks back for a second, and for the first time in many years he feels life flow through his veins and he feels strong and confident. "To do what I should have done a long time ago."

She is sleeping, so she is easy prey. He steals up to her very silently, careful not to make a single sound. He must do it now, before she wakes up. With closed eyes he gathers all his powers as a Time Manipulator and focuses them on the ring around his neck. In a second, it shatters. A warm feeling of emancipation washes over him, and he smiles – the first genuine smile for over two years. And now that he is finally free from her control he feels his strenght flowing back into his body; now he can do whatever he wants. Without any remorse at all, he uses his powers to stop her time.

A Time Manipulator can manipulate time as he wishes; he can stop time, slow time, make time spin faster. He can change the time continuum as he wishes, but only in ways that will not harm the flow of time. It is easy to focus that power on manipulating one particular living organism's time like he has now manipulated Joz's. She is very much dead, and she will stay dead unless he grants her the time to live anew – and he will never do that.

A Time Manipulator's main task is to make sure that the time continuum – that is, the flow of time – continues unblemished and untouched. If too big a change is made in the fabric of time, the Time Manipulator must immediately correct that change or else all time can collapse. Therefore Timothy searches the patterns of time directly after killing Joz to make sure that no such change has been made by him now. There are no new breaches, so Joz can stay dead without threatening the continuing of time.

"Timmy? What have you done?" Harry is standing behind him.

Still smiling, Timothy says: "I stopped her, Harry. I finally stopped her. She won't bother us anymore. I'm free to save Draco and the others now, and I promise you that I won't fail."

Harry comes to his side and puts a hand on his shoulder. "You speak differently."

"That's because her spell is finally broken. She can't control me anymore. One of her twisted demands was for me to speak perfect English at all time, the use of one single abbreviation or slang word could cost me many hours of excruciating pain."

"That sounds awful, son."

"Believe me, it was. Thank you for telling me about The Other. If you hadn't I probably never would've found the strenght and the will to stop her. Thank you, father."

Harry gasps beside him. "You... you called me 'father'..." His voice is shaking.

Timothy turns to look at him. "Yes. You've earnt the title now," he jokes, and they laugh. Then they hug.

"For the first time in many years there's life in your eyes, Timmy."

"And it's all thanks to you, father. Give me one wish that you carry and I will grant it for you."

"A wish?"

"Anything that has to do with time. I can manipulate time as I wish, you know. You can wish for anything, big or small. Just tell me and I'll do it."

Harry does not seem to need much time to think. He simply meets Timothy's eyes with his chin put out, and says, "Then I want a last chance to speak to Draco before you change the past."

* * *

"Have they arrived yet?" Draco called from the kitchen.

"Nope, not yet," Harry called back from the dining room. He was laying the table, which meant that he had plates, cutlery and suchlike floating in the air above the table and carefully placed each piece on the table with an elegant flick of his wrist. Just as he had said that, a _POP!_ sounded behind him, and when he turned to look who was coming he chuckled quietly. "I take that back!" he called to Draco. "They just came."

"Oh, bloody Hell!" Draco shouted out in the kitchen. "I'm not done yet! Entertain them and act like it's raining!"

Harry laughed. "They can hear you, Dracums," he pointed out.

"Shit!" He clattered with something in there.

Harry shook his head and turned to Ron and his partner. "Ignore him, he's always like this when he's cooking. No-one's allowed in the kitchen during the last stage of 'perfection', if you know what I mean."

The man beside Ron was staring at the plates that were floating in the air with wide-open eyes and gaping mouth. "Wow!" he whispered with impression. "That is so cool!"

Ron gave him a bump in the side. "Hey, now, don't be rude," he mocked.

The other man shook the shock out of his body and turned to Harry, who was still smiling at them. When he noticed Harry's huge belly he became hesitant. "Er... hi," he said, still staring at Harry's stomach rather than looking at Harry's face.

Ron moaned in mock impatience and mock irritation. "That's not what I meant."

Harry was very amused at how they after only little more than a week already joked and teased each other as if they had been a couple for several years. He totally changed his opinion then; Ron had been right in his choice. "It's all right, Ron," he assured him, "this can be quite shocking for wizards, so what's it gonna be to a Muggle?" He reached out his hand. "Hi, I'm Harry."

The other man took his hand and shook it veeery slowly. "Hi, I'm Jonathan," he said. "Ron told me about the pregnancy, obviously, but I guess I still wasn't prepared for it. So, you're the friend, then?"

"Yeah, I'm Harry, but what you're seeing is really Draco. I don't normally look like this, I'm only wearing him because I love him so much," he joked. "Now, if you excuse me, I have to take care of this." He continued to lay the table. To Draco, he called: "Dracums! Will you come out and say hello to our guests, please? I've got my hands full – sort of."

"No I won't bloody come out and say hello!" Draco yelled indignantly. "I'm a fucking mess and I don't want them to see me like this!"

"You care too much about appearances." To Jonathan, he said: "Don't mind Draco, he's got a really hot temper and he always swears. He might appear intimidating and hostile and down right furious at first sight, but he's really nice once you get to know him."

"Harry! Get the fuck in here and help me, you insensitive bastard! You always leave me with everything and go do your bloody whatevers like some sort of manchauvinistic—"

"Oh, use a cleaning spell, for fuck's sake!" Harry yelled back. Then he clamped his hand to his mouth. "Oops! Sorry, I don't usually curse... His body's got a bad influence on me."

Jonathan had a lot to take in at once, and Harry was impressed with his calm. Harry himself had not taken it this well at all times when he first learnt about the magical world, and he certainly had not just nodded and said, "I see", as soon as he had seen something incredible. Once Draco came out of the kitchen he looked perfect – as always – and Harry could only see his soul, he did not see the body Draco was currently in. He instantly went up to the blonde and kissed him affectionately. "You look lovely," he said with a thick voice. Draco immediately picked up on the seductive and aroused tone in his voice, but Harry hoped that the others had not noticed it. It was just impossible not to get aroused every time he saw Draco like this, all dressed up and styled... it reminded him of their first date.

Draco giggled girlishly. "Oh, please... you're just saying that..." But in fact he wanted Harry to say things like that because he knew he was beautiful and loved the compliments. He pressed closer; Harry noticed that he was aroused as well and wished they could have excused themselves for a quarter of an hour or so... "You don't look so bad yourself," Draco murmured on his lips.

"Wow," Jonathan was saying behind them, "they must really love each other if they can be all tingly like that when they're in each other's bodies."

Harry and Draco laughed. "Well, after three months you have to get used to it," Harry said, "but at first we weren't all that happy about it."

"I was totally disgusted with him!" Harry and Draco said in unison, then laughed.

They sat down at the table, and Draco brought in the first dish. He had really gone all out and made hors d'oeuvres for starters, then some sort of stew with a secret recipe he would not unveil, and an absolutely delicious rich chocolate brownie with hot chocolate fudge sause and "home-made" vanilla ice cream for dessert. But it was when Draco rose from the table to bring in the dessert that things really started to happen. He was just rising from the table when the room started to fill upp with a light purple-grey smokescreen that smelled slightly burnt, and then a semi-tall dark shape appeared. It opened what looked like huge black bat wings and laughed demonically. "I have come to suck your blooooood!" it said and revealed its fangs.

Jonathan gave a frightened shriek. So did Ron before he recognised the figure.

Piper blinked down at them. "Hey! You're new here! Who are you?" she asked. When no answer came from the shocked brown-haired man she looked at her brother. "What's going on here?"

"We're having dinner," Draco said with gritted teeth, and Harry could see that he was really fighting to control himself in front of the guest.

Piper squealed. "And you didn't invite _me_?!"

"And why do you think we didn't invite you? Huh? _Why are you coming in here looking like fucking Dracula_, _you oblivious good-for-nothing ruin-it-all?! _You'll scare the poor Muggle to death!"

"He's a Muggle?!" Piper exclaimed with childish delight and took a closer look at Jonathan.

Ron pointed up at her. "That's Piper," he told Jonathan.

"Ah," the other man said when he finally understood what was happening. "Hi, nice to meet you. I'm Jonathan Kelly, Ron's boyfriend."

Piper blinked at him a few times. "Excuse me, did you just say 'boyfriend'?"

"Yes, that's right."

She looked at Draco. "What, is everyone gay all of a sudden? Can't _anyone at all _stay straight and keep me company in this square world?!"

Draco laughed unpleasantly. "I thought you had Yousuke for that. How was Japan, dear sister? Good? Oh, good. _Then leave_." He did not say another word, but just went straight out to the kitchen to get their desserts. After a while he gave a shriek in there and everyone turned their attention to the kitchen doorway. "What the Hell are _you_ doing in here?! You're not allowed in here! Get out! Get out! What the— Let go of me! HARRYYYYY! She's touching me! Heeeelp!"

Harry swiftly rose from the table. "Excuse me," he said and hurried out to the kitchen, where Slutty Piper was currently trying to get a feel of Draco's privates. The blonde was desperately struggling to keep her off him, but she appeared to be too strong and too horny. Harry raised his wand. "Stupify!" She fell down rigid.

"Thanks," Draco said.

"No problem." Harry went back out to the dining room. He felt the situation needed to be explained, so he simply said: "Piper's kinky clone tried to rape him."

Piper gasped. "Oh no she didn't!" she said.

"Oh yes she did," Harry confirmed.

"I'll take care of her immediately!" She stormed out into the kitchen and almost collided with Draco.

"Hey, watch where you're going!" he screamed. "You almost ruined my brownies!" He put them down on the table indignantly. Then, when he was about to take a seat again, something changed about him. Harry could not quite put his finger on it, but there was something utterly different about his air, and there was a strange glint in his eyes... Instead of sitting down, he said, "Excuse me, I forgot something in the kitchen," and left again.

Harry looked after him, wondering what had just happened. But he came back in just a couple of minutes and seemed to be his normal self again, so Harry just shrugged and forgot about it. All in all, the dinner had been a success, and before Ron and Jonathan left they promised to do it again soon.

* * *

"I hope you're aware of the consequences of this," Timothy says with concern. "I'm not bringing him back permanently, because that's not possible, you'll only get one hour with him. Are you clear with that?"

"Yes," Harry says, eager to talk to Draco again.

"And he will be the Draco that he was that night, right before he died. He will have no memories of the past six years."

"I'm aware of that – just bring him out, will you?"

The boy nods and uses his powers to bring forth the ghost of 2022's Draco. The blonde looks exactly like Harry remembers him, only more beautiful, and it is such a shame that such a perfect creature should spend eternity in the world beyond all alone. Acting on a dangerous impulse, he throws himself around the blonde's neck and kisses his left cheek. Draco simply stands there, shocked, paralysed by astonshment. Eventually he lifts his arms and puts them around Harry. "Harry...," he says, "why are you crying?"

He has not even noticed himself, but yes, he is crying. He lets go only temporarily to be able to gaze into the blonde's silver eyes. "Draco... you don't know..."

The blonde frowns. "Don't know what?"

"You've been dead for six years. Timothy has only brought you back here for an hour as a special request from me. I had to know..." He falls silent.

Draco jerks when he hears the truth so bluntly. "I'm... I'm dead? But I... I remember us going to—"

"The forest, yeah. Remember your dreams? They weren't dreams, Draco, they were premonitions. You died in that forest six years ago. Ron killed you."

Draco looks as if he's just been hit in the face. "I died? I left you here all alone?"

"Yes. There was nothing we could do. _That's_ why James became Tom – because I got you killed."

Draco gives a nervous laughter. "What are you talking about? You didn't get me killed!"

"Yes, indirectly I did. I was the one who brought you to that forest that night, remember? I was the one who led you right into their trap, and I am the reason you're dead. James saw that and turned on us permanently. He even murdered the Minister for Magic just to start the war. It's been going on for more than two years now, but now it's finally coming to an end. We're winning, Dracums. We're winning for you."

Draco blinks. "For me? What are you talking about? I'm no-one special..."

"Yes you are, Dracums. You're the most special wizard in the world, you were the one who made everything beautiful. When you died, everything died. Our family died. James became Tom and went over to the dark side, started the war... Joz enslaved Timothy and made him do horrible things to keep the war going. She's dead now. But she deserved to die. She killed our entire family. Piper, Yousuke, all the children... She was the one who killed Blaise."

Draco stiffens and a hardness comes to his grey eyes. "_Joz_ killed our Blaise?" he asks with gritted teeth.

"Yes, I'm afraid she did," Harry admits. "But it's over now, Timothy's going to make everything right again, he's going to bring the beauty back to the world... and he's going to bring you back to me."

He holds him tight, his eyes closed and his heart pounding.

"What about Ron?" Draco asks in a low voice.

"He's fine now. Piper succeeded to break the spell that Lord Pywercaseley had put on him, and he was quite bad for a while. Felt awful about what he'd done to you... but he got over it eventually. He understands now that he didn't mean to do it. He was just being controlled by Pywercaseley."

"What an awful thing to do – to use your own brother like that."

"Yeah... I guess the old Percy is definitely gone now."

"Harry, would you tell Ron... Would you tell him that I don't blame him, please?"

"Certainly, babe."

"Time's almost up," Timothy warns from his corner.

Harry presses Draco closer one last time. "I just need to know something...," he whispers.

"What?" Draco asks.

"Do you... do you hate me? Do you hate me for taking you to that forest and for ruining everything for us? Do you blame me for what happened that night?"

The blonde is silent for a long while, then he tightens his hold on Harry. "No, of course I don't hate you, Harry. I love you. I know you never meant for me to get killed, and I don't blame you. It wasn't your fault."

"Thank you. That's all I needed to hear."

* * *

Piper could not find Slutty anywhere when she collected her troups and prepared to go outside for another training session. She would soon be ready to take on Pywercaseley, she said. Harry did not know if he believed her, but he was willing to give her a shot. And honestly he did not care if Slutty disappeared from the face of the Earth, because she was always trying to rape his Draco, and to think that she was trying to rape _his_ body was just way too disgusting and indignating. Then, when he walked into the kitchen to have a cold drink of water and some fruit, he spotted black leather in the corner of his eye and whirled around.

Malfoy Piper. Out of her bondage. How in Hell...?

"Hey! Stop!" he yelled and ran after her. "Petrificus Totalus!" The spell hit her in the back and she fell to the floor like a rigid stick with a loud _THUMP!_

Someone screamed in the other end of the house. Since Malfoy Piper's body was locked he felt it safe to run towards the scream and see what was going on. He found Sensitive Piper standing in the open doorway to one of the broom closets, staring at something on the floor.

Slutty Piper was dead. Slashed open. Her intestines were hanging out of her open gut.

Harry turned his face away in disgust. Who the Hell had let Malfoy Piper out? And _why_? He wanted to think that Slutty Piper being the target was just a coincidence – but only two hours after she tried to grope her way into Draco's pants? It was too convenient to be a coincidence. But surely Draco would never have set Malfoy Piper free just because he was tired of being constantly sexually harassed? Sure, he'd been acting strange for some time now, but... That did not mean that he would volunteer as an accessory to murder, for crying out loud! But then again... Harry remembered the strange change in Draco just after he had brought them dessert. How he had gone back out into the kitchen and not returned for more than two minutes... He had said that he had forgotten something in the kitchen, but when he came back he had not had anything with him.

What the Hell was going on in the Manor?

* * *

Timothy puts his hand on Harry's shoulder to comfort him, because he understands that it must be painful for him to see Draco disappear again. An hour is not nearly enough for someone who has spent six whole years without his beloved, longing and desperately yearning for him to return somehow. "Are you okay, father?" he asks with concern.

Harry slowly nods. "Yeah, I'm all right." He looks up at Timothy and smiles. "He gave me the best gift ever. I think he just gave me life back."

Timothy responds with a smile of his own. "I'm glad for you."

"The Other?"

Timothy stiffens. He has never heard that voice before, yet he recognises it like he would recognise his own even after twenty years of deafness. He slowly turns to find a boy his own age and of the same height as him with blue eyes and dark-brown hair standing before him. "You found me," he says happily and goes to him.

They embrace.

Harry watches the scene with apparent bafflement. He points at the strange boy. "You...!"

The boy smiles. "Funny to think that I met you only two minutes ago, but for you it must be at least twenty years," he says with that distinct American accent.

"Twenty-two," Harry agrees.

The boy looks at Timothy anew. "At least I found you, baby," he says, and places a tender kiss on Timothy's lips.

Harry gapes at them. "'Baby'? Are you guys...?"

"We have never met until now," Timothy explains, "but this is my other half, The Other. We've been searching for each other for all our lives. You see, there are only two Time Manipulators co-existing in the same time, and their job is to maintain the flow of time together until they die. This is the other Time Manipulator – my soul mate." He turns to the boy. "I'm Timothy, by the way. Timothy Malfoy."

"Jonas Bradley," the boy introduces himself with a smile. "Nice to finally taste you."

They laugh.

Harry just shakes his head with resignation. Youngsters these days...

Then Jonas lets go of Timmy and claps his hands together expectantly. "Well, shall we go and save your father, then? We don't have all the time in the world, you know. We have many stops to make between the years 2006 and 2022, baby."

_(To be continued...)_

"Boku o michibiku kasuka-na shiruetto..."

* * *

**_Gaah! XD I managed to get another chapter out before going to bed! Yaaaay! But jeezes, I am such a slacker! Today, all I've been doing is watching J-drama all day long... except for getting these new chapters up, that is. I just watched the first episode of "Yukan Club" and really liked it. Haha, Taguchi Junnosuke from Kanjani8 plays the son of the Swedish ambassador and has blond hair and blue eyes in the drama! It is SUCH a stereotypical image of Swedish people! (LOL) As if everyone was blond and blue-eyed here... I'm a green-eyed redhead myself, yet I'm 7/8's Swedish (and 1/8 Finnish). But hey, what kind of a name is Granmanie!? Is that supposed to be a Swedish name? It sounds like gibberish... And it's definitely not in any way a male name, ha ha ha. X3_**

**_Granmanie... haha..._**

**_Anyways, I'm off to bed now... it's midnight here in Sweden right now. (yawn) Maybe I'll see you in the morning with yet another chapter - who knows? :) Take care!  
Love, Piper_**


	38. And so the tables were turned, part 12

**Rating:** NC-17

**Pairing:** H/D and R/J

**Disclaimer:** All the characters belong to J.K. Rowling, except for my creations Piper, James/Tom, "Joseph"/Timothy, Joz, Jonas, Jonathan Kelly, the Forgettes, and Magami and Yousuke Sakanoue.

**Disclaimer II:** The nickname "Dracums" belongs to Golden.

**A/N:** The return of a beloved HP-character you've always been waiting for!! :D Naah, I don't know that for sure, but at least it gets you guys curious. ;)

Btw, what is it with me and bad words?? Would someone please tell me to stop using words like "fuck" and "bitch"?? I'm totally losing my touch here... sigh

* * *

**And so the tables were turned... (12)**

Harry honestly did not know what to think – all he knew was that Draco had been molested by Slutty Piper _again_, acted really weird directly after it happened, and two hours later she was dead. Was it really just a coincidence? Or did Draco actually have something to do with it? Harry did not want to believe that his boyfriend had set the murderous Malfoy Piper loose merely because he'd been pissed with Slutty's slutty ways and got tired of her. He did not want the clones there – Harry did not, either – but surely he would never go to such extremes as to actually have one of them killed! Right?

He spent many hours the following days contemplating this, and as he had done many times before he now sat and watched Draco without his knowledge. Desperately searching for some kind of sign that he was changing like he had changed the night of their double date with Ron and Jonathan. But nothing. If there really had been something strange about Draco that night it had apparently been a one-time thing only. At least that was a comfort... But still. There seemed to be something going on with Draco that he would not tell Harry about, and it concerned him. Draco always told him everything, and he got furious whenever Harry broke his promise and did not tell _him_ something.

"What's wrong with you?" Draco asked, and totally shattered his line of thinking.

He blinked. "Huh?"

"You keep staring at me all the time, it's creepy. You don't have any emotions in your eyes – you're just staring."

"Oh. Sorry." Harry forced himself to look away. He could feel Draco studying him intently, trying to figure out what was wrong. Eventually he found the strenght to ask the question that had been burning on his tongue for over four days now. He looked up at his lover. "Draco... did you have anything to do with Slutty's death?" he wondered cautiously.

Draco jerked as if he had been hit in the face. Then he swiftly rose from the armchair he had been reading in, an indignated and hurt expression on his face. "I can't believe you just asked me that," he said, and Harry had the feeling that he had done something utterly stupid again.

He hurried after Draco. "Wait! I'm sorry, I shouldn't have suspected you like that! Dracums, please stop and just listen to me for a second. It's not like I actually thought you'd murdered her or even set Malfoy Piper loose on her, it's just... doesn't it seem a little too convenient to you? She had sexually harassed you for the umpteenth time and then suddenly she turns up dead and Malfoy's loose? Doesn't that seem weird to you?"

Draco just stared at him with black eyes.

Harry sighed and drove his fingers through his long hair. "I'm sorry, I'm a jerk and a total bastard, I should just shut my big mouth and stop thinking so bloody much all the time," he muttered self-mockingly. The therapy was not exactly helping, was it? He was already criticising himself again.

"You should get a hair cut," Draco said indifferently. "I want my hair to be just like it was when I get my body back, don't forget that. I love my hair, it's my best feature."

"No, your best feature's your eyes," Harry objected. "Dracums, please, will you forgive me for ever suspecting you? I know you're not capable of that, but I had to ask, didn't I? Please..."

Draco thought about it for a moment. "If you agree to some angry make-up sex I might forgive you," he then said defiantly.

Harry raised his eyebrows. "But I'm not angry, I—"

Draco bitchslapped his face with all his might.

Harry clenched his right hand in fury. "Hey! What the fuck'd you do that for?!" he yelled.

The blonde just sneered with satisfaction. "Now you are," he pointed out. "So, will you throw me down and take me or do I have to slap you again, bitch?"

"What are you talking abou—"

He slapped him again, harder this time.

Harry felt the blood rush at a furious rate through his arteries and veins, and he could practically feel the adrenaline surge through his body. "You're gonna regret you did that," he said, and violently grabbed Draco and pulled him up to him.

Draco gave him a challenging look. "I sure hope you do, _bitch_."

Harry gave a roar of frustration and fury and threw Draco down on the heavy 18th century mahogany coffee table – the expensive collector's ornaments that had been passed on through the Malfoy generations clanked down onto the floor, but nothing shattered or broke – and savoured the fleeting look of pain on the blonde's face. Draco wanted to be hurt, he wanted it rough because he was sooo angry, and Harry was more than willing to give him rough if that was what he wanted. He tore open Draco's shirt and sent buttons flying through the air and completely tore off his trousers in a rabid frenzy. Draco grunted approval and, still holding his wand in his right hand, said, "Blockado." All the entrances to the room were effectively blocked from intrusion by other people; no-one would walk in on them or even see them in there. Harry slammed his lips down on the blonde's, sucking life out of him. Draco fumbled with Harry's trousers and hurriedly pulled them down slightly over his thighs, then urged him to come inside him as if saying "Don't bother with the bloody pants, just get on with it already!" Harry would not disappoint him; he forced inside and immediately began to thrust hard into the blonde, completely controlled by his own fury and his own need to get the frustration out of his body.

Draco screamed out loud, long shrill squeals like some sort of animal, and violently rose to meet him halfway, trying to force Harry deeper into him, clutching his shoulders for his life. "Fuck you, bitch, fuck you!" Draco snarled, digging his nails into Harry's back and shoulders.

Harry performed an extra hard thrust that made Draco open his mouth wide in a loud shriek. "No, fuck _you_, you over-sensitive bad-mouth!" he growled into the blonde's face. "Fucking slap me in my face when I've done nothing..."

Draco grabbed Harry's buttocks and squeased hard. "You did something... haaahh... you did... something... fuck, yes! You accused me of... hah, hah, hah... of..." The words died away because Draco was suddenly shaken by an orgasm so powerful that he went completely mute; he squeased Harry's buttocks even harder. When the shudders had passed he went straight on, not the least bit turned off, on the contrary he seemed to be even hornier now than he had been before, and he was still bloody angry with Harry. "You accused me of killing Slutty, you bastard, you _fucking_ bastard! Now show me you love me or I'll bloody kill _you_ instead!" he snarled, and used all the strength he possessed in his hands and arms to push Harry deeper into him as Harry simultaneously thrust faster, the frustration in him building up to something else and enabling him to go on and on even though he felt like he was on the brink of utter climax.

"I – said – I – was – sorry," he yelled.

"I don't know if I can forgive you...," Draco was saying harshly, but then he seemed to be taking a turn to new heights again; he bucked beneath Harry, a wonderfully euphoric expression on his flushed, slightly sweaty face. "I... I... I might... forgive you... oh, God... ah, ah, ah, shit!"

He pressed his hips up and pressed Harry down on top of him at the same time, and that was when it became too much for Harry. Trembling violently, he let go and just let it happen. "Ah, Draco... baby... come for me..."

Draco threw his head back and shouted incoherently – God, he was loud. Harry wondered if that was what _he_ had sounded like that time Draco had wound up laughing at him for being "corny". He slid down beside Draco, lying on his back, panting. "Shit, that was intense," he said. "Did I make you change your mind?"

"Hardly. You're gonna have to do more than that if I'm going to let this one slip," Draco snorted. "Remember what you promised me. This was one of the conditions for me staying with you, right? You can't bloody treat me any shitty way you like and just expect me to bear with it."

Harry felt a new surge of fury pass through him. "How can you turn this around on _me_?! Not everything's my fault around here!"

"Did you hear me say that everything around here is your fault?"

"No, but that's what you implied, wasn't it?"

"No, it wasn't. So, are you gonna do something about it already? I'm waiting and ready to go here."

"How can you still have an erection after _that_?!"

"Because I have stamina, dimwit."

"Call me that again and I'll slap _you_."

"Like 'bitch' better?"

"Shut up." Harry rose from the coffee table and zipped up. "I gotta pee."

"Hurry back, will ya?"

"Oh, I will hurry!" Harry said with emphasis. "I'm not done with you!"

"I bloody sure hope you're not 'cause I'm still hot for you, baby."

"You gonna stay there on the table all day?"

"I may if it takes you all day to satisfy my needs," Draco said simply.

"How about we use the other furniture instead? Might help us reach an understanding."

"Good idea. Now go pee and hurry back, stud. It's getting cold."

Harry used a spell to temporarily open a crack in the blockade big enough for him to step through; it sealed itself behind him directly after going through. He was not surprised to find that Piper was lurking in the hallway outside – she'd always been too curious for her own good. "What are you two doing in there?!" she said and stopped him.

"We're fighting," Harry told her indifferently.

She raised an eyebrow. "Fighting? Sounds more as if you're killing each other."

"Not exactly, but we do have a very special way of fighting and working through our differences."

"By screaming nonsense words at each another?" she said in lack of understanding.

"No, by actually fucking the crap out of each other – works every time. You should try it with Yousuke sometime, it really strengthens a relationship. Kept us going for more than five years."

"_What?!_"

"I gotta pee, so could you please move? I'd rather do it in the bathroom than on you."

Even though he peed very quickly, he had a lot of time to think, and his thoughts were not exactly bright and cheerful. As he heard the dialogue within his mind, he knew that it was bad, that it was really bad, he knew that he should not feel that way, yet he could not stop himself from thinking that it was all his fault. Everything was his fault. A part of him told him that he was worht nothing, that all he did was hurt the people he loved and eventually got them killed one way or another. Another part of him argued that he was mentally ill, that he could not help that he hurt people because it was not his fault, it was the disease that made him do it.

_I hurt him_, he thought miserably, _I hurt my Draco_... _how could I have even thought anything like that of him? Why can't I trust him? I'm a lousy boyfriend, I can't even be there for the person I love the most, so how the Hell can I ever be there for anyone else? I just hurt him... all I do is hurt him, and he hates me, he hates me for constantly hurting him, it doesn't matter what I do to make things right – he will still hate me._

Suddenly he could not breathe, and his chest kind of cramped up with pain. Oh, God, he was having a panic attack... Clasping the edges of the washbasin, he stared at the reflection in the mirror. He did not deserve to be in Draco's body, because the blonde was flawless and he was full of flaws _and_ he was mentally ill, wasn't he? He hated himself, and he wanted to hurt himself. He actually reached for Piper's razors in the bathroom cabinet before realising what he was doing. "Oh, my God...," he whispered. "Did I just intend to commit suicide? I'm worse than I thought..."

Steeling himself, taking several deep breaths, he straightened up and decided to go back to the parlour and tell Draco what he had been about to do. The blonde deserved to know. And besides, if it ever happened again he would need someone to prevent him from actually doing it that time. He did not want to die – so why did he feel ready to slash his wrists?

He gave himself one last look in the mirror. "I have to go in there and make him forgive me," he told himself.

Piper was still lurking about in the corridor outside the parlour. "Harry! Harry, what are you fighting about? You're not going to break up, are you? I have great news, but I don't know if—"

"Shut up and leave me alone, I'm not in the mood for an interview," he muttered and walked right past her.

Draco was waiting impatiently on the couch, still nude. He did not seem to be quite as furious now as he had been just a couple minutes' ago, but Harry was not willing to take any chances. "Did you decide on any furniture you wanna trash?" he tried to joke but sounded like a robot.

Draco did not notice the self-loathe in his voice but simply sat up. "Yep, I came to the conclusion that the chair over there looks awfully lonely," he informed him, and pointed to one of the armchairs with a lower back.

Harry looked at it. "You wanna sit in the chair?" he said in bafflement.

"No, you moron! I want you to lean over the back of the chair and let me take you from behind. I've never done that before, so what d'you say, stud?"

Harry shrugged. "Okay. Whatever."

Draco gave him an odd look. "Are you so mad with me for slapping you that you can't even pretend to be enthusiastic about my brilliant ideas?"

"Mmm, yeah, that's it," Harry said, because he had thought better of telling Draco about his bathroom incident. Nothing had happened, and telling the blonde about it would only make him anxious in vain. He was not going to kill himself. Not as long as he had Draco by his side – which brought him back to why he needed to obey any order that Draco gave him. He stood behind the armchair like a good boy and bent forward. To his surprise Draco was really gentle and loving in his touch, as if sensing that Harry really needed tenderness right now. But as soon as he was starting to heat up again he became more violent, naturally. Not 'voilent' in the sense that he hit him or did anything else to hurt him physically, but in the sense that he became extremely enthusiastic and excited. He even encouraged Harry to take a turn on the couch directly after he got tired with the armchair. Harry consented, because he was afraid that Draco would stay mad at him forever if he did not. But he did not feel very good about it – he felt awful. Was this really the only way he could make Draco love him? By giving him multiple orgasms? Was he really that lousy as a spouse?

Harry hardly even registered when Draco screamed "I forgive you, I forgive you!" right before he finally slumped down on the couch, finally satisfied. He felt like a hypocrite. Here he was pretending to be a good father to James and a good partner to Draco, but all he ever did was hurt them. How could he live with that? How could he live with _himself_?

Draco took his hand in his and sighed happily. "There is no way to work out one's differences like make-up sex," he said, and sounded quite pleased.

But Harry did not hear it; a huge lump had formed in his throat and tears were running down his cheeks in silent rivers, but not a sound escaped him.

"Let's just lie like this for a while, okay?"

The pain in his chest became worse, and he was on the brink of another panic attack – he could feel it lurking around the corner, waiting to take him by surprise. He tried so hard not to make Draco aware of his tears that it only became harder to cry in silence; ultimately a loud sob escaped him, and when one had broken through the barricades of his self-restraint more were to come.

Draco stiffened beside him. "Harry?"

Another sob escaped him, louder and longer than the first one – then a third directly after, and he felt embarrassed about the despair that came along with it.

Draco whirled around to face him, and his expression was concerned and heart-broken. When he saw Harry's tear-wet face he jerked with anxiety. "Harry, baby... what's wrong? Why are you crying? Did I hurt you?" He stroked his face, blotted his tears.

Harry could not speak at first because he was sobbing so bad, but when he finally managed to get a few words out he just seemed to hurt Draco even more. "I hate myself...," he whispered, and Draco jerked as if he had been hit in the face.

"Oh, baby...," he said, and snuggled closer, put his arms around Harry and held him tight. They were so close their foreheads were touching. "Baby, you don't have to feel that way... you're a wonderful person, a perfectly wonderful person... there's no-one better than you, baby."

Harry stubbornly shook his head. "No, I just hurt you," he persisted. "I hurt you before... when I thought you had something to do with Slutty's death... I made you so angry... and I'm hurting you now by crying like a bloody baby... I just hurt you... I'm worthless..."

"No! No, you're not worthless! Never, Harry! Never! And you don't just hurt me – you make me happy. Hell, you make me much more happy than I deserve to be, and I'm bloody privileged to have you for a boyfriend. You don't hurt me. What made you think that?" Immediately after uttering the question he seemed to realise the answer all on his own.

Harry just sobbed on.

"Oh my God... I did this to you, didn't I? I made your self-hatred worse by egging you on like that, didn't I? Man, I really gotta learn not to take things so personally..."

Harry snivelled. "What do you mean?"

Draco stroked his cheek with love and affection in his touch. "I always get so angry over nothing, and I always take it out on you," he confessed in a low voice. "In the end, I just end up hurting _you_. But you were doing so fine, you were back to your normal self, and I... I was so happy for you. I thought you beat your self-hatred and was getting well again, but now it seems as if your soul is in worse condition than any of us thought. And I'm probably to blame for some of it."

"No, don't say that, Draco, it's my fault – it's _all_ my fault."

"No, Harry, listen. I've been pushing you way too hard the past two months because I felt taken for granted. In the long run I ended up taking _you_ for granted, didn't I? I've been so selfish, just thinking about _me_ and _my_ feelings, that I didn't see that you were hurting from it. I'm sorry, baby." He kissed Harry's right cheek.

Suddenly Harry sat up, holding his hands to his throat. "I can't breathe, I can't breathe!" he panted in panic.

Draco got up on his feet with a frightened expression on his face. Grabbing his wand, he said, "Colluthia," and they both got their clothes back on. He unsealed the room and with a lot of effort he managed to get Harry up from the couch. He was wheezing and his emerald eyes displayed utter terror. "Are you having an anxiety attack?" Draco asked worriedly, holding him up.

Piper came into the parlour almost immediately after the seal had been broken, but Harry did not care, she could just as well see him as the worthless piece of shit he was, it did not matter.

Draco was actually glad to see her. "Piper! Quick, go to St. Mungo's and talk to Harry's therapist for me, okay? That Windpipe bastard needs to increase their meetings, once a week isn't enough anymore, he needs at least thrice a week again. He's getting worse, Piper, I can't help him with this all on my own."

Piper stood paralysed in hesitation and indecision for a long while, not knowing what to do or how to react to the scene in front of her.

"Piper, please!" Draco called to her. She swiftly nodded and went to the fireplace.

Harry was panting, trying to get a little ogyxen into his lungs through small shallow breaths. "Just take me outside for a while, okay?" he begged. "I need some fresh air."

Once they had sat down on the bench down by the lake Harry started to calm down and breathe normally. Draco held his hand and squeased it occasionally to provide extra support and comfort. They must have sat there in silence for more than half an hour before Harry finally told him. "I almost tried to take my own life."

The blonde gasped and squeased his hand so hard he almost crush the bones in his fingers. "Wha-what...? What did you say?"

Harry sighed and closed his eyes. "When I was in the bathroom before. That's when I started to panic. I felt worthless because all I did was hurt you and make you mad, and I wanted to hurt myself instead to make the pain in my soul go away. I almost took your sister's razors and... but I didn't, so, anyway..." He fell silent.

Draco put his arm around his waist and rested his head on his shoulder. "I never realised you were this bad. Just don't ever do anything like that again, okay? If you ever feel like that again promise me you'll come straight to me and let me help you through it, okay? Promise me, Harry."

"Yeah... promise."

"I don't want to lose you."

"Good luck, 'cause I've already lost myself."

They went back inside about an hour later and found that Piper was anxiously waiting for them, pacing up and down the parlour floor. "How are you doing?" she asked when they closed the back door behind them. "I spoke to Dr. Windpipe, and he suggested that Harry come in first thing in the morning. He's cleared his schedule for tomorrow so he'll be free to help Harry from eight in the morning to five in the afternoon if necessary. Sometimes it helps to have a known surname, huh?" She tried to smile, but only managed half a grimace. "I guess this isn't the time for my great news, is it?"

Draco helped Harry to an armchair and gave him a blanket because he was freezing. "No, it's okay. Maybe some great news is exactly what we need right now, or what do you say, Harry?"

"I wanna sleep," Harry said and yawned.

"You'll get to sleep soon, but we had better hear Piper out first or she'll be pestering us about it all day," the blonde said simply.

Something moved outside the French windows.

Draco turned towards it and saw some orange and some kind of long cloth. "What was that?" he said, frowning. It seemed familiar somehow...

"That? Oh, it's just our new bodyguard," Piper said and waved it away. "The Ministry is bringing in the Forgettes from Russia to help them with their Pywercaseley problems, and apparently they thought it necessary to station a few at our house in case the Dark Lord shows up here."

Draco hurried away from the windows in shock and terror. "What?! They're putting those murderous yucky creatures outside _our home_?! Are they out of their bloody minds?!" He turned to his sister and pointed an accusatory finger at her. "Was that supposed to be your 'great news'? Because I don't like it!"

Piper laughed. "Oh, no, no, no. Forgettes are _hardly_ great news! No, Yousuke has asked me to marry him. Can you imagine? He proposed to me this morning!"

She began to hop up and down with joy – so did Draco. "Are you serious? You're getting married? That's wonderful! You'll finally get your own home and your own family and stop bother mine! I'm so happy for you!"

Piper stopped hopping, so Draco stopped too, wondering why _she_ had stopped. "What are you talking about?" she asked in confusion. "I'm not going to move out, I like it here in the country. Yousuke's moving in here with me. We'd like to stay close to the family, Japanese tradition and all, you know..."

"Then what about _his_ family?!" Draco yelled furiously. "Can't you stay close to _them_ instead?!"

"Yousuke has no family except for his sister, so she's moving here too. Isn't it wonderful?" She began to hop like mad man again but this time Draco did not hop with her.

"You're... you're moving in _here_? _All_ of you?" he echoed weakly.

"Yeah, they're coming here tomorrow. Drakie-poops, you wouldn't mind if we occupied a few more rooms, would you? Two isn't quite gonna cut it anymore..."

"No, I guess I wouldn't... all right. I'm starting to get used to having my life constantly ruined by you, anyway, so why not? Now your husband-to-be can help you ruin it."

"Thanks. We will."

"I wanna sleep," Harry reminded them impatiently.

"Sure," Draco said and helped him up from the armchair. He helped Harry up to their bedroom and into the bed; he fell asleep almost immediately. That anxiety attack must really have drained him of all his strength and energy. He asked Sensitive Piper to watch over Harry and specifically told her _not_ to let him wander off on his own. If he did she was to call for him.

When he got back down to the parlour Cho was standing by the fireplace. His sister was nowhere in sight, so he figured Cho must have invited herself in. "What are _you_ doing here?" he asked with hostility.

_SNAP_.

"I just came to see how you were both doing," she said with a disgusting sickly-sweet smile that totally made him want to puke. "Is everything fine, Draco?"

He swiftly covered the short distance between them and towered over her for intimidating effect. Ignoring the rule about Malfoys never using their hands for dirty work, he put his hands around her neck and squeased a little. Not enough to make her lose her breath, but enough to make her see that he could easily kill her without feeling any remorse. Moving in so close that his lips almost brushed against her eyelashes, he whispered, "Do you think you can just come here and take advantage of the situation, huh? Do you think you can just walk right in and take over my job? This is my house, and this is _my_ revenge. You're in my territory, bitch."

He thought he detected a fleeting glint of fear in her eyes. But then she smiled self-righteously. "You _have_ changed, haven't you?" she stated. "The potion is working."

He partly let go of her. Contemplated her words. "You did this to me?" he asked.

"Yes, I brought you out of him," she confirmed.

He squeased his hands tighter around her throat. "Then you're the person responsible for my confinement, as well," he breathed with growing fury. "You'll pay with your life, Cho. But not now. I want you to fear me first. I want you to get real scared. And then, when you least expect it, I'll take over this sorry crap's body and kill you. That's a promise, and I never break my promises."

Now there was definitely fear in her eyes, and he thrived on it, loved it. Fear had always been his greatest turn on.

An awful shriek stole his attention away from Cho, and he turned towards the windows to see what was going on. Outside, three Forgettes were holding a young boy between themselves, preparing to suck the memories out of him. That boy...

_SNAP_.

"Joseph." He let go of the weight and ran towards the back door in blind panic. Throwing the door open, he yelled, "_No!_ Let him go! Let him go! You're gonna hurt him!"

But the creatures were not listening. Seeing no other alternative, he raised his wand and uttered the only spell he knew worked on the Forgettes. "Expecto Patronum!" His Patronus were not nearly as powerful as Harry's, but it harmed them enough to let go of the boy and flee the scene of their crime. Draco quickly kneeled beside the injured boy on the ground. "Are you all right?!" he said.

Joseph coughed and got up. "Yeah, I'm okay. Now." He met Draco's eyes, and Draco instantly noticed that there was something significantly different about him. There was life in his eyes now, life and hope and warmth. Emotions that had never been displayed by the boy before. He wondered what had changed Joseph so much. "You saved my life," the boy said gratefully.

Draco laughed. "Nah, I just chased them Forgettes away from you, nothing big. They wouldn't've actually hurt you. They only take criminals, right?"

The boy's eyes became melancholy again. "But I've done things that you couldn't even imagine, Draco. _She_ made me do things that the Forgettes would definitely see as crimes. And it doesn't matter that I didn't commit those crimes in this time – they can still smell the guilt in my soul. They would have stolen all my memories and discarded of my empty body if you hadn't come in time. You saved my life. For that I am eternally grateful, and I will grant you one wish. Anything you'd like."

Draco blinked at him sheepishly. "Anything?"

"Yes, anything. I am a Time Manipulator – I can shape time however I want."

"A wish that has something to do with time, huh?" Draco stated. "So, can you give people back their time as well?"

"Oh, yeah, that's easy. Is there anyone in particular that you have in mind?"

"Forget it. He's been dead for many years, so you probably wouldn't—"

"Taking back someone's life is even easier than giving back their time," Joseph revealed. "I simply undo the moment of death and bring the person back to _this_ time, fully alive and well."

"Really? Well, in that case... I would like you to bring back Blaise."

Joseph raised his eyebrows in astonishment. "Blaise? You mean Blaise Zabini?"

"Yeah, which Blaise did you think I meant? Are there any others?"

"Well... sure. In my time you wished to give Harry sufficient time to heal, but this is just as good, I guess. I could bring him back. But he was evil..."

"No, _he_ wasn't evil, the circumstances made him evil, just like they made me evil. Until I met Harry, that is. If it hadn't been for his father he never would've turned into that vicious murderer... He was really sweet and considerate when he was little. And he was the best friend ever. So would you please bring _that_ Blaise back? The person that he was supposed to be without the influence of the world he was brought into? Can you be that specific?"

"Of course I can. Consider it done."

Draco watched as Joseph closed his eyes and crossed his arms in front of his face in a really strange fashion and jumped backwards in shock as an eerie white-blue light emerged from his hands. Before his amazed eyes a shape began to appear, and at first it was just the contours of a person, but soon it evolved into a shadow that swiftly turned into a human being. It was as if Joseph was gradually colouring him like a child coloured page by page in its colouring book. A minute later Balise Zabini was standing before him, looking exactly like he had done the last time Draco saw him – with the exception that he was not wearing his long black Death Eater cloak now, but a pair of worn jeans and a washed out T-shirt. He was barefoot and his hair was tousled. Draco remembered that this was what Blaise liked to look like _in reality_, he did not like all those expensive designer clothes that his father forced him to wear... Did that mean that Joseph had successfully brought back the _real_ Blaise and not the person he was once forced to become?

Blaise blinked at him. "Potter? Harry Potter? You were the one who brought me back?" he asked in bafflement.

Draco blinked sheepishly, too. Then he turned to Joseph. "Does he remember being dead? Does he _know_ that he's been brought back from death?"

Joseph was actually smiling at him. "Yes, I allowed him to remember all that because it made it easier for me to re-shape his good self," he told him. "As you can see, there is no Mark on his left arm. I took his dark past away. Maybe I should leave you now, you have a lot to talk about." He vanished.

Blaise looked after him. "Who was that?"

"That was my son, Joseph," Draco revealed. "He visits from the future sometimes... Apparently he's a Time Manipulator – whatever that is – and he granted me one wish as a reward for saving his life. You were my reward."

Blaise stared at him in disbelief. "I was your reward for saving that bloke's life? Why on Earth would you ask for _me_? I don't even know you, Potter."

It took Draco a few seconds to realise why his friend was so confused. "Oh! But I'm not Harry. It's me – Draco. I know I _look_ like Harry, but that's only because we've switched bodies. Not voluntarily, of course, Piper kind of had something to do with it... Anyway, glad to have you back!" He hugged his best friend, who was still in shock. "Are you still seventeen?" he then asked.

"Yeah. How old are you now?"

"I'm turning twenty in December. It's October now."

"So it's been three years..."

"Yeah. Funny to think that we were born on the same day and yet you're three years younger than me."

"Yeah." Blaise studied him intently. "I take it that you're still with Potter, then."

Draco smiled. "Yeah, but there's a lot more to it... God, we have so much to catch up on! Let's go inside and have some tea and I'll tell you about everything that's happened."

They went into the parlour and closed the door behind them. Draco started when he noticed Cho standing beside the fireplace. "What are _you_ doing here?" he asked with irritation.

She began to shudder and back away from him when he came closer. "No, don't... don't touch me," she begged. "Ge-get away from me!"

Draco blinked at her in bewilderment. "Why do you look at me as if I'm some sort of monster?"

Blaise came up to them. "Is that Cho Chang? She a friend of yours now?"

Draco snorted. "I wish she would leave us alone, but she keeps showing up unannounced as if she was Harry's best friend or something... She's even worse at timing than Ron."

"Weasley? _He_ a friend of yours, then?"

"Yeah, Ron's all right. He's nailed a med student, the nicest bloke you could find in London."

"Ron's gay?!"

"Bi. But still, it's pretty darned amazing."

"You bet it is. Want me to help you make that tea?"

"Thanks, that'd be nice. Let me just get rid of this plague—"

He did not even get within three feet of Cho before she squealed like an animal and Disapparated. He did not understand why she had been so frightened and jittery, but he was glad she was gone.

With Harry in his mind, he served tea and biscuits to Blaise and told him about all the madness of the Malfoy Manor.

* * *

Ron returned to Jonathan's London apartment at five that afternoon, totally beat. He just wanted to sit down on the couch, tilt his head back, and rest his poor muscles. He had been training hard with his Quidditch team all day – he was working hard to become a pro. Harry always talked about how much he would like to play professional Quidditch, but he never did anything to make that dream come true. Ron did not get that bloke. Why did he have such a hard time committing to his dreams? He was always so busy with his family life... if he devoted even a fifth of that devotion to Quidditch he would become one of the best Seekers in the world in no time.

Jonathan was sitting in front of the TV when he came into the living room, apparently watching some kind of sitcom. He was shuffling big handfuls of popcorn into his mouth. He looked up when he detected Ron in the doorway. "Oh, hi Ron!" he said, and went right back to watching his TV show.

Ron did not think he would ever understand the joy of television. What was the point of staring at a box for several hours a day? That time could be spent doing something important instead.

He slumped down next to Jonathan.

"Tough day?" Jonathan asked.

"Yeah, I had to dodge loads of Bludgers today..."

Jonathan stared at him. "Loads of what?"

"Bludgers. I forget that you've never seen a Quidditch game. Maybe I should take you to one. Would you like that?"

"Is that the game in which you fly around on your broomsticks and throw things at each other?" the other man asked with curiousity.

Ron laughed. "We don't throw things at each other! But, yeah, we do fly on our racing brooms."

"Oh, I'd love to see that! You play a game soon?"

"We have a match on Sunday morning at eleven, if you'd like to come."

"I'd love to! How long's a match?"

"That depends on how long it takes the Seekers to catch the Snitch. Might go on for months if we're unlucky." Ron sighed.

Jonathan blinked sheepishly at him. "I didn't understand a word of what you just said, but I guess it's all good. I'll come, but I can't stay longer than till Monday morning, I have class that afternoon."

They laughed.

Then Jonathan got a mischievous look on his face. Smiling deviously, he said, "Want me to ease that tension for you?"

Ron frowned at him. "How are you going to—" He fell silent when Jonathan unzipped him and bent down into his lap. Oh, so _that_ was what everybody referred to as "easing the tension"? Just the thought of Jonathan touching him and possibly even blowing him made him hard and made his entire body flush with desire. He gasped in anticipation when the other man revealed his erection and took it in his mouth. Jonathan worked his lips and his tongue over Ron's skin like a pro, and the redhead experienced an instant physical response. It was really taking the tension out of his body, just like Jonathan had said it would, and he instinctively put his crotch up. Breathing fast, clasping the couch fabric tight in his hands, he expelled a "God, Jonathan!" As if that had been an encouragement, Jonathan worked him faster and elicited several guttural squeals from Ron. The pleasure that filled him and surged through his nervous system was so strong, so pure that he wanted to flee from it – it was too much to bear. It was not just his physical pleasure – it was his emotional pleasure. How the Hell could Jonathan make him feel so bloody much? He still could not believe that he was actually into blokes, but for every day that passed he liked Jonathan a little more, and right now he was starting to think that he might actually...

He came with a shriek and slumped back on the couch, panting and with a light film of sweat on his forehead. "Wow," he said with emphasis, "I've never been relieved of stress that quickly and efficiently before!"

Jonathan looked up at him and smiled teasingly. "Maybe you should make it a habit, then."

Ron pulled him up and embraced him. Just needed to hold him for a bit. "Yes, please let's make that a habit?"

Jonathan laughed. "You don't have to ask! Didn't we have this conversation four days ago before we went to Harry's?"

Ron blushed. "Yeah, we did..."

"And didn't we agree that we're now officially a couple?"

"Yeah, we did..."

Jonathan pulled him closer. "Well, there you have it. We've officially been a couple for four days – ninety-seven hours and counting. That means you don't have to ask me about sex, Ron. Just poke me in the side and give me a cute look and I'll jump right into it. If I'm sleeping – Hell, wake me up! 'Cause I'd like to be there if you decided you wanted to have some sex at three in the morning! You don't need to ask me about anything, and that goes for the food in the kitchen as well. Eat as much as you want, just leave some for me 'cause I don't like to be hungry."

Ron laughed embarrassedly.

"Ah, you see what I mean. All my stuff is all your stuff, and all that crap. Clichés, definitely, but they sure work for me."

Ron closed his eyes and just let himself be swept away by his emotions. He really liked the way Jonathan could always make him feel comfortable. Jonathan was so easy-going, so compassionate... and he had a lovely sense of humour. Snuggling up closer to his boyfriend – _his_ boyfriend!! – Ron felt happier than he had ever felt in his entire life.

And he might actually love him.

_(To be continued...)_

"Boku o michibiku kasuka-na shiruetto..."

* * *

**_"hop like mad man" – sorry, but I couldn't help it... another one of Kotani-sama's frequent expressions that I just love and had to use in my story! "Be genki and hop like mad man!" Yes, I will, Kotani-sama! And now Piper will, too._**


	39. And so the tables were turned, part 13

**Rating:** R/OOC/mpreg

**Pairing:** H/D and R/J

**Disclaimer:** All the characters belong to J.K. Rowling, except for my creations Piper, Tom/James, "Joseph"/Timothy, Jonathan Kelly, Magami and Yousuke Sakanoue, the Forgettes.

**Disclaimer II:** I am so pissed and jealous about this, but okay, I admit it: It was Golden who came up with the nickname "Dracums". (pout) I just forced her to let me borrow it a little... or, like, A LOT!! ;p

_**Warning:**_ The end features _straight_ snogging!!

**A/N:** Get ready for the ultimate family dinner! The Weasleys are going to get the shock of their life... because they don't know about Ron's 'ickle laddie. (giggles)

* * *

**And so the tables were turned... (13)**

It was already the beginning of December, the winter had come and the days were getting colder. Ron had not spent much time at the Burrow lately, because he always went straight to Jonathan's place after Quidditch practice, and he simply never left Jonathan's place on days when he _had_ no Quidditch practice. But that particular day he planned to go home to collect a few items that he needed, and he also planned to ask Ginny to give him company to Diagon Alley to pick up some parchment and a new quill. He wanted to pay a visit to Fred and George's joke shop, too.

Jonathan was just getting dressed when he returned to the bedroom from the bathroom, and Ron smiled appreciatively at the sight of his bare upper body. "Nice view you're presenting me with this early in the morning," he teased.

Jonathan just smiled. "Don't I always give you a perfect view, Ronnikins?" he stated matter-of-factly. He buttoned his pin-striped shirt. "What you up to today, gorgeous?"

"I thought I'd do some shopping," Ron said, and rummaged through the second drawer from the top in Jonathan's dresser. He settled for a green cotton jumper with a wide midnight blue stripe over the chest.

"Oh, good. Would you pick up some apple juice for me? I'm really longing for some apple juice right now, but I don't have any time to go buy any myself."

Ron laughed. "Not that kind of shopping, silly," he said, and briefly kissed Jonathan as he passed him on his way to the chair beside the bed, where he had put his jeans last night. "Wizard shopping."

"Oh. I see." He was silent for a while. "Wizards don't drink juice?"

"Not apple juice, we don't. We drink pumpkin juice."

"Pumpkin juice, eh? Okay. Pick some of that up for me, then."

"All right. I'll be going by the Burrow today, too, so I might not be home until tonight. I should really spend some time with my family or they might walk around thinking I'm dead or something."

Jonathan snatched him as he passed him a second time and held him real tight; kissed his neck. "Move in with me," he said against Ron's skin.

Ron turned his head in astonishment. "What?"

"Move in with me. I want you here all the time 'cause I can't stand the thought of being without you even for a second."

"But I'm already practically living here," Ron pointed out in an amused tone of voice, "I'm always here. I haven't left this apartment for three whole days. I even have my own drawer!"

Jonathan tickled him in his sides and made him laugh out loud. "Then let's just make an oral contract of it and make it official," he insisted affectionately. Then, to Ron's surprise, he went down on his knees and took Ron's right hand in his both. With an expression of mock serenity, he said: "Ron, will you move in with me?"

Ron gasped in mock shock. "Jonathan! I don't know what to say, it's so sudden...!" He pulled Jonathan up from the floor and placed a loving kiss on his soft cherry lips. "Yes. I'd love to move in with you." He looked him deep into his amazing blue eyes. "I love you, Jonathan."

The other man was totally taken aback by that line, and he just stared blankly at Ron for the longest time. "You... Er, you were saying... What did you say exactly?"

Ron embraced him and rested his head on Jonathan's chest. "I said I love you, Jonathan."

Jonathan still found it hard to find the words. "You... are you serious?"

Ron laughed. "Yes, I'm serious! Do you think I would joke about something like that?"

"No, not really, but... you've never said that to anyone _at all _before... you told me you were afraid of loving again after Hermione's death... So, I mean... do you really...?"

"Mean it?" Ron put in. "Yes, I mean it. I love you. I've known that I love you for more than a month now, but like you said I've been afraid to say it. But now I understand that I'm taking a greater risk not saying it than I am saying it. If I never told you that I love you, you'd grow tired of waiting for me to say it and eventually you'd dump me. I'd hate that." He pressed closer.

Jonathan put his hands on Ron's back. "Thank you, Ron. That meant a lot to me."

* * *

Ron arrived at the Burrow at eleven that morning and went straight to the kitchen where he knew that his mother would be washing the dishes from that morning's breakfast. She was standing with her back to him, and since the water was running she did not hear him come in. He simply went over to her and kissed her on the cheek, right over her left cheek bone. "Hey, Mum," he said with a pleasant smile.

She turned in surprise and lit up like a torch. "Ronald!" she exclaimed and gave him a hard hug. "Where have you been the past two weeks? I haven't seen you at all in over fifteen days!"

Ron laughed. "I'm glad to see you too, Mum." He remembered when he had been a kid and was embarrassed about his Mum hugging him or in any way revealing her love for him, but now when he was older he did not care all that much. Since he had someone he loved in his life now, he understood the need to express those feelings. "Sorry I haven't been here so much lately, I've been busy is all."

Mrs. Weasley pinched his cheek. "Oh, it's all right, Ronald, I've seen you on the Quidditch field. You're really talented, dear. At first I was quite disappointed in you for choosing Quidditch over a decent career like your father's, but when I saw you play during that game a month ago I knew why you made that choice. You're really good at it, and that's what matters."

"Boy, you never say anything like that to _us_, Mum!" a voice said behind them.

When Ron turned around he found Fred and George standing in the doorway, grinning at them. "Hey!" he said merrily. "How's your joke shop coming? Any regulars yet?"

"Yep, many people know to appreciate our products," Fred said solemnly.

"Mum not being one of them," George put in as an afterthought.

Mrs. Weasley snorted. "Making sweets that make you vomit in class and creating extendable ears is not a decent profession," she claimed, and it seemed as if she was going to stick to her old standards. "But that doesn't mean I don't love you, dears," she added and pinched their cheeks, as well.

Ron just shook his head. Then he gazed over at the staircase. "Where's Ginny?" he asked. "I was hoping she'd ackompany me to Diagon Alley and make sure I don't spend too much money on silly things I don't need."

"She's in her room, dear. _Ginny!_ _Come downstairs, your brothers are here!_"

Mrs. Weasley went back to her dishes, and the twins sat down at the table.

Ginny hurried down the stairs only a moment later. When she saw them all gathered her face cracked into a happy smile. "Ron! Fred! George! I haven't seen you guys for forever! How are you?"

They spent about thirty minutes talking about this and that before Ron told Ginny why he was there. She said she would love to join him for some shopping – and they were off. Ron had always felt comfortable and relaxed and laid back in Ginny's company, and even though they were sister and brother they never quarrelled. Since they had always been so tight, Ginny instantly noticed that there was something different about him. He sensed that she wanted to ask him about it for quite some time, but maybe she did not know how to. Eventually she took a deep breath and smoothly started her questioning. They were sitting outside the ice cream bar, and she leaned slightly forward as she spoke. "You look more vibrant than usual. More... happy. It suits you."

"Thanks – I guess."

She fingered on her jacket for a moment. "Are you... finding influence from a particular external source?"

Ron laughed. "I think you've read way too much psychology, sis."

"So there's no external influence, then? This is just due to... what? Personal goals?"

"I honestly don't have a clue what you're talking about. I don't understand all those psychological terms you're using. Speak English."

She studied him for ten seconds or so. "Is there a person?"

Ron blushed. He could not help it. He still did not know how to break the news to his family, and when he was confronted by the question this bluntly he was completely taken aback and rendered speechless.

"Oh, so there _is_ a person!" Ginny stated, pleased with herself. "Tell me, is this person the reason you're so different, Ron? Is this person the reason you're so happy and vital?"

"Yeah... it's all thanks to this... person."

"I see. And does this person make you happy?"

Ron gazed out over the crowd with a dreamy look in his eyes. "This person makes me very happy. I'm the happiest guy on Earth. It's the person I want to spend my life with." He peered at her from the corner of his eye. "Why are you not asking me more specific questions? I can see in your eyes and in your whole appearance that you're just dying to know everything about my 'person', so why aren't you asking me things like 'who' and 'how' and 'why'?"

Ginny smiled at him and put a hand on his knee. "Because I want _you_ to tell me when you're ready to," she said. "It's no fun if I have to pry it out of you. I want you to feel comfortable when you tell me. Because I _know_ that you'll tell me _everything_ once you're ready. But just tell me one thing: Have you been together for a long time?"

"About two months now."

"That's a decent time. I would've been really disappointed if you'd said six months or a year, so I'll buy two months. It's rather new, then? Must be nice. Does anybody else know about this person of yours?"

"Only Harry and Draco. Oh, and Piper of course. Bloody impossible to keep a secret from her."

"Yeah, she always seems to figure everything out even though she's bloody stupid."

They took another few turns up and down Diagon Alley before returning to the Burrow for dinner, which was served at 6 sharp as always. Ron gave his stressed out father a merry greeting and told him all about his Quidditch practice and how he had been selected to play for England next season. He was only going to be a substitute Keeper and may never get to actually play, but that was as good as anything. To Ron it was a great achievement! Maybe next time – if he kept up the good work – he would actually get to play as their main Keeper!

At the end of dinner, when the twins were getting ready to take off to their joke shop again, Mrs. Weasley stopped them with an admonishing cry. "You remember to come to the family dinner tomorrow, boys! Your mother will be very disappointed if you don't show!"

"And we know it's no fun when Mum gets disappointed," Fred said in mock fear.

"Don't worry, we'll be there," George promised. "Wouldn't miss it for the world."

He kissed his mother on the top of her head before they said goodbye and Disapparated.

"We're having a family dinner?" Ron asked in astonishment.

"Oh, dear, I forgot to tell you! Bill and Charlie are coming here tomorrow so we're gathering the family to have a nice little dinner to reminisce," Mrs. Weasley explained with a warm smile. "You _will_ be able to be here, won't you, Ronald?"

"Of course," Ron quickly said, "I'd love to see Bill and Charlie and hear everything about Egypt and Romania! Wonder if he's got any new dragons to study?"

He swallowed the last of his potatoes.

Then, more as an afterthought than as anything he had actually planned, he said, "Would it be okay if I brought my boyfriend along? He'd hate to sit alone all night and wait for me. He's been bugging me about meeting my parents for weeks now..." He sighed with mock irritation and chuckled.

Then he noticed their shocked stares and their indisputable muteness.

He frowned. "What? Did I say something funny?"

Ginny was the only one capable of speech at the moment. "Di-did you say 'boyfriend'?" she stuttered.

Ron gave a start. "Oh! So that's why you're all looking as if you've seen a troll walk by the window! Yes, I said 'boyfriend', there's nothing wrong with your hearing. I know this'll probably come as a shock to you, but... yeah, I'm seeing a bloke. Actually we've been together for little more than two months now, and he's kind of the reason why I've been away so much..." He lowered his gaze in embarrassment.

They were silent for almost half a minute.

"So, who is he, then?" Ginny asked, and he could have kissed her for trying to break the ice between them. For trying to accept and understand.

"His name's Jonathan, and he's a med student," Ron told them proudly. "He's very smart and has a great sense of humour – I'm sure you'll all love him, he's great. Especially you, Dad, 'cause he's a Muggle."

His mother sounded as if she was choking on something.

But his father lit up. "A Muggle? How soon can he get here?" he asked in childish amusement.

"We'll be here at five thirty," Ron promised. "Please try to be nice to him. I really love him, and he's asked me to move in with him. I've told him that I'm a wizard, and he's okay with it. He's the one I want to spend my life with."

His mother reached for his hand over the table. "Of course we'll love him, dear. If he loves you and treats you right, we'll love him. And we love you, Ron."

* * *

Draco woke up in the best of moods that morning – everything was perfect and beautiful and nothing could ruin it for him! He immediately began to shake Harry awake to share his happiness with the person that was most important to him. When the blond raven-haired boy opened his eyes and murmured a sleepy "Mornin' baby" Draco pressed his lips to Harry's in an impulse of pure happiness. "Do you know what day it is today?" he asked with a huge smile.

Harry blinked a few times and appeared to be thinking hard. Draco's heart actually sank a bit at that moment, because it hurt him that his own boyfriend had to think so hard to even know what day this was. This was special to Draco. "Er...," Harry mumbled, and scratched his chin somewhat absent-mindedly. "Tuesday?"

The smile effectively faded from Draco's face and was replaced by an indignated expression. He hit Harry on the arm. "Bastard! You don't even remember what day this is, do you?"

Harry blinked. "What? It's Wednesday?"

Draco hit him again – harder. Tears were coming to his eyes now. "No, you bastard, it's—"

"Happy 20th birthday, Dracums!" Harry said, suddenly wide awake, and pulled him into his arms despite his huge protruding belly and kissed his hair with great love and affection.

Now Draco blinked in bafflement and confusion. "What? You knew all along?"

"Of course I know what day it is! It's the 3rd of December, the most important day of the year! And you're 20 today – that's special. Today will be a special day, indeed. I've talked to Piper, and she's promised to stay away. We won't see the slightest trace of her family today, it'll just be the two of us and the kids. How does that sound?"

That sounded perfect. But unfortunately their plans were changed without their control. Piper, her clones, Yousuke, and the incredibly annoying Magami (who did not speak any English at all) kept out of sight as promised, which was a good thing, but someone else barged in on their private celebration and rearranged their special schedule. There was an invitation in the owl post that morning.

"Hey, Harry," Draco said, because he was the one who opened the card. "We've received a formal invitation from the Weasleys – says here they're having a family dinner tonight and want us to come. 'We would love for you to come since you're part of our family, too, and please feel free to bring anyone you like – we have plenty of food. We also hope to see that lovely boy of yours again, dears. Love, Molly.'" He looked up at Harry. "We can't decline to something like this, can we? I wouldn't want to disappoint Molly..."

Draco was perfectly comfortable with being on a firstname basis with Mrs. Weasley, but Harry still felt awkward about being so informal and felt very reluctant to call her Molly. Now he met the blonde's gaze with caution. "Are you sure it's okay, Dracums? I mean, it's your birthday and—"

"What would be more perfect than to spend my birthday together with our best friends? Apparently Ron's older brothers are flying in, and Ron's bringing Jonathan too. Please, Harry, can we go?"

Harry blinked. "Yeah. Sure. If you really want to..."

He was interrupted by the doorbell. They both turned towards the doorway that led out into the first floor hallway in surprise. Who could that be?

Draco started towards the front door. "I'd better take it in case it's someone who's not supposed to see a pregnant man," he said humorously, and Harry laughed. They both knew that it had to be someone they knew because the powerful force field around the Manor only allowed certain people to approach the main building. Therefore Draco was prepared to fire off a "Hiya there, Ron!", but when he opened the door and found a strange podgy man with a huge package in his arms on the front steps his smile faded. "Can I help you?" he asked warily.

The man put down the package and withdrew an odd-looking flat object from the inside of his jacket. "Delivery for Harry James Potter," the man said in a squeaky voice that reminded Draco of a Goblin. But this man was way too tall to be a goblin.

Draco blinked. "Excuse me?"

"Delivery for Harry James Potter," the strange man repeated impatiently and shifted his feet. He presented the weird flat thingy to Draco and reached out a small oblong object that slightly resembled a wand but was too short and too thin to be a wand. Draco stared at it in confusion. "I need you to sign here," the man said, and Draco did not know what the Hell he was talking about. Sign? What sign? There was no sign there!

"Er... would you excuse me for a minute, please?" he said, and swiftly walked back into the parlour where Harry was waiting with an expectant look in his grey eyes. "Who was it?" he asked.

Draco stopped just in front of him and whispered: "There is man here says he's got a delivery for Harry James Potter."

Harry raised his eyebrows in bafflement. "Really? That's weird."

"Yeah, I know, your name's Harry Joseph Potter," Draco agreed.

"No, no, that's not what I meant. I meant it's strange that a Muggle delivery passed through our force field. There's nothing fishy about the name – that's me all right."

Draco frowned. "What? But you told me your name was—"

"Yeah, I know what I said, but I have several middle names, all right? My full name is Harry James Geoffrey Joseph Potter, okay? It's kind of exhausting to say them all so I kind of chose one when you asked me about it."

"Oh. Okay. But, about this delivery guy... He wants me to give him a sign and I don't know what he's talking about..."

"No, he wants you to sign the paper. You have to write my name on the dotted line at the bottom of the paper he gives you to confirm that you have received the package. Take the pen that he gives you – it's an elliptical thing that looks kind of like a third of a wand – and press the tip of it to the paper and then just right my name, okay? Do you understand, Draco?"

"Yeah, I think so." He retreived the package and signed the paper just like Harry had told him to. Both curious to see what it was and who had sent it, they ripped open the cardboard box and peered into it. Apparently it was a blender that Dudley had grown tired of, and since Uncle Vernon was so stingy and parsimonious he had sent it to Harry with the note "Happy Christmas, freak".

* * *

Bill and Charlie were already there when Ron and Jonathan arrived, and neither of them noticed that they were holding hands. They were just really glad to see their baby brother again and totally overlooked the fact that Ron and Jonathan were veeery close. Bill enthusiastically shook Jonathan's hand whilst Charlie gave Ron a crushing hug and chuckled in a way that would make Santa Clause jealous. "Ronnie, you old chap! How are you?" he said, grinning.

Ron squirmed out of the embrace. He always felt a bit uncomfortable around Charlie, who was way too physical for a brother. "Er... I'm fine – I'm great, even," he muttered. "Have you been sipping on the fire whiskey again?"

"Oh, you bet! Fire whiskey's _the_ liquor!" Once again that burly chuckle-laughter escaped him.

Ron noticed that Jonathan had gone over to say hello to his mother, and he was pleased to see that she was smiling and pinching his cheek. That meant she liked him. Phew.

Five minutes later his father came home from work and instantly jumped Jonathan with millions of questions related to Muggles. "Hello! Are you really a Muggle? And is it true that you live in an apartment with thousands of Muggle Artefacts? You know, I work in the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Department at the Ministry of Magic so I know quite my share about Muggle inventions, but tell me this one thing... What exactly is the function of a rubber duck? Harry would never answer that question to me..."

Jonathan was not the least bit frightened by Mr. Weasley's forthrightness and childish curiousity, which relieved Ron. He had been afraid that his father would scare Jonathan away and make him reconsider his offer to let Ron move in with him. "A rubber duck? Harry didn't answer something as easy as that? Boy, he _is_ really strange that boy, isn't he?" Jonathan laughed. "A rubber duck is simply a bathroom ornament!"

Mr. Weasley's eyes widened in wonder. "A bathroom ornament, you say? Molly, we have to get ourselves one of those!"

"We are _not_ having a rubber duck in our bathroom!" Mrs. Weasley said with emphasis.

"Oh, Molly, please! I'm sure it'll fit right in..."

"We are _not_ getting any rubber duck! End of discussion!"

"Oh, all right," Mr. Weasley said with disappointment.

"And you know what?" Jonathan went on in his usual humorous manner. "Many people use their rubber ducks as toys, too."

"Toys?" Mr. Weasley echoed enthusiastically.

"Yeah, especially children. They play with them while their in the tub. Oh! And dogs! Dogs love 'em 'cause they make this funny squeaking noise."

"They squeak too?! Oh, Molly, we _have_ to get one!"

"I said no, Arthur!"

"_Please_!"

Bill and Charlie were watching in amusement. "Who is this guy, Ronnie?" Charlie asked. "He's hilarious! Is he a new friend of yours?"

Ron laughed. "He's not just a friend, Charlie, he's—"

"Ron!" Jonathan exclaimed all of a sudden and hurried over to them. He grabbed Ron's left arm and dragged him over to Mr. Weasley. "Come over here, don't just stand around. I want you here with me." He bent down and kissed Ron's hair for a lovely brief, intense moment. Ron laughed at his boyfriend's spontaneity. Furthermore Jonathan put his arm around Ron's shoulders and possessively held him as close as their separate bodies allowed. Ron could hear his brothers gasp behind them, so he turned around with an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry Charlie – Bill – that I haven't told you about this, but... well... Jonathan is my boyfriend. We're living together."

Charlie got an odd expression on his face, and then he fell straight to the floor, rigid with the shock. He did not get back up. Ron raised one eyebrow in suspicion, because he knew Charlie to be a joker. But he still did not get up. "Charlie?" No reply. "Oh well." Ron shrugged and turned back to Jonathan.

* * *

Draco dressed up in Harry's best shirt and best trousers and looked really elegant, but Harry himself did not feel very elegant in his maternity clothes. Even though they were said to be "party wear" he felt like a bloody tent going to a scout gathering to let screaming little children sleep in him later. Because of his huge belly he only had so many choises when it came to clothing, and they were not by far enough. Currently, he was wearing a pair of black maternity trousers in some stiff cotton blend and an enormous white shirt. Draco claimed that he was immensely cute in them, but he did not believe him. He felt ugly and fat. He did not want to go to no dinner. But if it meant so much to Ron and Mrs. Weasley, then... sigh, he could not just let them down by not showing, could he?

Just as they were about to ring the bell James spotted a moth in the evening air and ran off to catch it. "Hey! James! Come back here!" Harry shouted after him, but the boy did not come back. With a deep sigh, Harry said: "It's all right, I'll go get him. You go ahead."

"Are you sure?" Draco asked worriedly.

"Yeah, the excercise'll be good for me. Go on in and stall them." Harry went after James, calling for the boy.

Mrs. Weasley was the one who opened the door for them, and she immediately lit up and gave him a warm hug. "Oh, hello, dear!" she said. "I'm so glad you could come! Oh, and you brought a friend with you! Hello, I'm Molly Weasley," she introduced herself and offered her hand.

Blaise took it and shook it confidently. "Hi, Blaise Zabini. I'm Draco's best friend."

"Well, come in, come in! Dinner will be ready in just a few minutes, dears!"

Draco spotted Ron and Jonathan and went over to them. Not until he was standing beside them did he notice that Ron's older brothers were there, too. He noticed that the younger of them looked kind of pale and sick. Draco sure hoped he did not have any contagious diseases because he really did not want to get sick again. The older of the brothers lit up slightly when he saw him. "Harry! It's so good to see you again! How are you?" he said with a nice smile.

Draco gave him an inquiring look. "Huh?"

"How are you these days?"

"I'm fine, just fine," Draco said and wondered what kind of moron this was. He had never seen him before in his life and he acted as if they were old friends!

"And how's school coming? I heard you were in Auror training..."

"I'm not in Auror training," Draco protested, because it totally passed him by that this guy must think he was Harry. "I'm a stay-at-home Mum."

The oldest Weasley brothers blinked sheepishly at him, and then they burst into laughter. "Stay-at-home Mum? Yeah, that's a good one!"

Draco was just about to say something acidic when the front door flew open and Harry stepped inside with some effort. He was holding the present for the Weasleys with one hand and tried to tame the wild James with the other while simultaneously trying to hold his belly up. With a cry of frustration he called out to his lover: "Dracums! Some help here, please!"

Draco instantly went over to him. "Certainly, baby. I was just waiting for you to ask me. Hell, you're stubborn. You're even worse than me!" He took the parcel out of Harry's arms and cooed James over to him. "That better?" he asked Harry, and the raven-haired boy nodded gratefully. "Come James, let's go say hi to Mrs. Weasley, shall we?"

"Wheezee!" the boy said happily and leaped into the room.

When Draco turned his attention to the people in the room again he noticed that Ron's older brothers were staring at them with their mouths hanging open, and that's when he realised that they had no idea about the body switch, James, the pregnancy, or even about Harry's relationship with Draco. They were in a rightful state of shock. And if Draco was right in assuming that Ron had just told them about _his_ boyfriend they were in for another mind-boggling revelation. "I guess I should explain this to you," he said as Harry walked up to him and supported himself on Draco's arm. "I'm not Harry."

"_I'm_ Harry," Harry said, panting from the strain of walking that short distance.

"Here, let me help you sit down," Draco offered, and guided his lover to an empty armchair.

"Hey, Harry!" the Weasley twins were shouting from the other side of the room. "Only getting bigger and bigger!"

"Yeah, it's a bloody menace," Harry complained. Once he was sitting down he could turn to Bill and Charlie to help Draco explain everything to them. "I'm Harry," he repeated. "The person over there is my boyfriend Draco."

"Hi, nice to meet you," Draco said and briefly waved his hand at them.

"We've been a couple for about five and a half years now, so I'm quite surprised that Ron hasn't told you about that. We've been living together for more than three years now, and Draco's sister and her Japanese husband is also living with us at the Manor. Maybe you've heard of Piper Malfoy? Yeah, that's his sister. So you're probably familiar with her passion for making up new spells and potions, right? Well, one of her spells backfired and made our souls switch bodies. That's why I'm in Draco's body and he's in mine."

"But that doesn't quite explain the condition my body is in, does it?" Draco put in, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning back slightly against the arm of the sofa. "You see, Piper likes to try her new potions on me without my knowledge, and about three years ago she fed me some Priberty Potion without my consent. The Priberty Potion makes men pregnant if they're subjected to someone else's sperm."

Bill and Charlie made wry faces and squeaky noises.

Draco looked down at Harry with loving eyes. "I guess I don't have to tell you that I totally got subjected 'cause you all know how much I love Harry, how much he loves me. And eventually it resulted in little James here." He made a gesture at the boy, who was currently running around the floor in circles while singing one of his made-up songs. "And, as you can all see, Piper fed me the potion again..." This time he nodded at Harry.

Harry smiled semi-bitterly. "And three months later she switched our bodies, so now I'm pregnant instead of Draco. Seems like I'm up for delivery in two months."

"I am so jealous of you!" Draco said and playfully hit him on the crown of his head. They laughed. Only had eyes for each other. But then Draco gave a start and straightened up. "Oh, I'm sorry! I haven't even introduced you to Blaise! This is my best friend, Blaise Zabini. I killed him three years ago because he was a Death Eater and the Death Eaters made me attempt murder on Harry because of some stupid spell, but I had him resurrected and stripped of all evil two months ago because I missed him. It was my reward for saving our second son's life when he last came to visit us from the future. And this is actually funny, because today is both our birthdays and we were born on the same day, but he's only turning seventeen while I'm turning twenty!" Draco laughed heartily, and so did Harry and Blaise.

Everyone who knew Harry and Draco knew that anything could be expected from the Malfoys, and therefore they were not surprised to hear the story about Blaise. They simply nodded their consent and shook hands with him as if there was not anything different about him at all. Everyone but Bill and Charlie, that is. They stared at the couple for a long moment, then they stared at Blaise. And then they fainted. THONK and THUNK and they were both sprawled on the floor.

Dinner was great as always in the Weasley house, and Draco enjoyed it immenseley. Harry and he were sitting opposite each other at the large table and once in a while their gazes met sending hot sparks through the room. This was the worst possible time to get excited, but neither of them could ignore the desire that was swiftly building up between them. Eventually Draco even had to cross his legs under the table to conceal the fact that he was aroused. He did not actually think that anyone would look under the table and accidentally cast a glance at his crotch, but one never could be too careful. He tried to focus his attention on Ron and Jonathan, whom were currently telling everyone a funny story about one of their first dates, but his mind kept trailing off to inner images of Harry naked. As he glanced at his lover over the table he noticed that Harry's cheeks were burning a rosy red. Oh, it was so hard to ignore the burning need that he had when it was so plain to see that Harry wanted him, too. Fuck the pregnancy. With the baby already so big they could not make love anymore, and oral sex just was not enough for Draco. Fuck the pregnancy. Had it not been for that huge belly – and that room full of Weasleys, of course – they could have been screwing their brains out right now.

He needed to get Harry alone somehow.

"Draco, would you pass me those vegetables, please?" Harry asked, and when Draco looked up he was winking at him.

Draco started. He was trying to get them alone, too! _Oh, well, let's start the game, then!_ he thought. Leaning back with his arms defiantly crossed over his chest, he said, "Take them yourself."

Everyone around the table grew silent and turned to watch them. They all seemed baffled to hear him use that arrogant, mocking tone with Harry. Waited for the reply.

Harry somehow managed to pale. "Excuse me? I can hardly move here! Now would you please be so kind as to pass me the vegetables?"

"No."

Harry gaped. "Draco!"

Draco raised one eyebrow in self-righteousness. "What? You too lazy to get yourself your own veggies?"

With a lot of effort, Harry stood up. Once on his feet he was red in the face and sweating. Without breaking eyecontact with Draco, he said between gritted teeth: "Ron, would you mind if we used your room for a little conference?"

Ron blinked. "No, not at all. It's not my room anymore, so..."

"Thanks. Draco, move us up there _now_!"

He felt bad about leaving them there in the belief that Harry and him were having a row, but if it could get him alone with Harry he really did not mind. As soon as they had got inside Ron's old room, Harry supported himself with his back against one of the walls and pulled Draco into a hot kiss. Draco desperately ran his fingers through Harry's long hair, pressing as close as he could with that belly inbetween them, fumbled his way inside Harry's pants with his other hand. Harry moaned against his lips and stiffened. "Can you stand up?" Draco asked, breathing fast. "Would you like to lie down?"

Harry swiftly shook his head. "Just hurry before they get suspicious..."

Although Draco would have preferred to be fucked bloody roughly, he understood that Harry was not capable of performing in his current state and settled for being the deliverer of pleasure this time. He went down on his knees and pulled Harry's maternity trousers down. "Oh, God," Harry was saying as he began to suck. Draco just hoped that Harry would repay the favour when he was done, because this was just turning him on even more. He _needed_ release! He'd been sexually frustrated for weeks! "Oh, God, yes... haaahh..."

"Oh, my God!"

Draco stiffened. That had not been Harry. With a really bad feeling, he looked up. Brother Bill was standing in the doorway, looking rather disgusted and rightfully so. Draco thought of saying something but could not for his life think of what that might be – nothing would excuse what they'd been doing in the Weasley home.

"Bill, wait!" Ron was coming up the stairs, apparently running after his brother, and when he saw Harry and Draco – in a quite embarrassing position, indeed – he covered his eyes with his right hand. "Oh, my God, I'm so sorry!" he said. "I tried to stop him, but he wouldn't listen!"

"I came up here to check on you!" Bill shouted accusatory and did not seem to be the least bit embarrassed at the way he was openly staring at them. "It was so quiet I was worried you might've killed each other or something, and all the time you were – you were – I can't even say it!"

Ron tugged at Bill's arm. "I tried to warn you, Bill, I said you wouldn't want to go up here!"

Bill swirled around. His nostrils were flaring. "You _knew_ about this? You _knew_ they were up here – here – here..."

"Yes! Of course I knew, this is how they fight!"

"_This_ is how they fight?! They fight by – by – by – oh, God!" He finally turned his face away and began to walk back down the stairs. Ron followed him, but at the top of the stairs he briefly stopped to say, "Sorry, mates, didn't mean to disturb you. Carry on."

That effectively killed their yearning, so they decided to go back down, too. They steeled themselves for whatever the Weasleys might have to say to them about their naughty activities under their roof, but no-one seemed to be bothered by it. In fact, the house seemed to be deserted except for Ron. "Where'd everyone go?" Harry asked in bewilderment.

"They went outside to say goodbye to Fred and George – they had to leave early to prepare for tomorrow's sale... Look, I didn't tell anyone, and I don't think Bill'll spill his guts about this for a looong time yet. So you're safe, mates."

"Thanks," Harry said.

The Weasleys were coming back in, and Mrs Weasley suggested that they all go into the parlour to have tea and ice cream. They all consented to the idea. But when Mrs Weasley and Charlie – who were taking up the lead – entered the parlour, they both stopped and stared in shock. Draco, who had always been too curious and nosy for his own good, elbowed his way through the Weasley crowd to see what was going on.

Blaise was snogging with Ginny on the couch, and as far as Draco could see he was finding damned good use for his tongue! For a moment they all just stared, because in a strange and slightly sick way it was amazingly fascinating to watch Blaise sneaking his hand inside her jumper to get a feel on her bra straps (or something else that might interest him under there). But eventually the silence was broken by Molly.

"Ginny!" she whispered, and her voice betrayed her disappointment.

The youngsters on the couch instantly broke apart in embarrassment.

Bill, who up until then had seemed to be in his own little world of miserable disgust, found his voice again. "You! How dare you molest my little sister like that?!"

Blaise looked utterly baffled. "What? I wasn't molesting her – we were just kissing!"

"You've just met her and you already stick you tongue down her throat?!"

"Look, it wasn't like that..."

"I was the one who cooed _him_ into kissing _me_!" Ginny said and stood up. "I can't believe your reaction. I'm nineteen years old, you know! I can make my own decisions!"

"That's what worries me," Bill said, and angrily walked up to Blaise. "That's it! That's the last straw! Now, all of you—" he pointed at Harry and Draco "— get the Hell out of this house!"

"Bill...," Mrs Weasley was saying, but he cut her off.

"If they can't show us respect they shouldn't be here. Now please leave."

Harry and Draco blinked sheepishly for a few seconds, but then they realised that the only right thing to do _was_ to leave. Before they made things worse. So far the Weasleys had no idea what had happened up in Ron's old room, and at least Draco liked to keep it that way.

When they had collected James and were just about to leave, Jonathan came back from the bathroom, and without further ado – being the impulsive bloke that he was – went down on one knee in front of Ron and took his right hand in his. From the pocket of his trousers, he withdrew a tiny black velvet box and held it out to Ron.

Ron gasped, because he – like everyone else in the room – realised what his boyfriend was doing.

And with everybody watching in disbelief, astonishment, and shock, he fired off a lovely smile and said, "My beloved Ron – love of my life, soulmate, bed monster (here Ron blushed crimson) – will you do me the honours of being your husband and belong to you for ever and ever until death do us part?"

Draco stared at the scene played out in front of him. _I can't believe it_, he thought. _He's proposing? Here? **Now?** After only two months?! Is he **crazy**?!_

Time seemed to be frozen for a long, long time, and the thing that broke the spell and made the clock tick again was Ron's one and only word:

"Yes."

_(To be continued...)_

"Boku o michibiku kasuka-na shiruetto..."

* * *

**_Waaaaaaaaaaahhhh..!! They're getting married!! XD (confetti rain) Who would have thought that RON would be the first one to participate in a gay marriage in this series!? X3 But please support him! He's going to need it..._**

**_Oooh, I just love this chapter! XD It's one of my favorites. It has sooo many comic parts... it made me laugh again, more than once, now that I read through it again. Some things I had even forgotten I ever wrote, like for example that Draco told them that he actually killed Blaise... why would he tell them that!? (lol) Bikkurishita no!_**

**_Aaaahh, I wonder what will happen in the next chapter... because in all honesty, I don't remember. Haha. ;P  
See ya next time! Love, Piper_**


	40. And so the tables were turned, part 14

**Rating:** R/OOC/mpreg

**Pairing:** H/D and R/J

**Discaimer:** All the characters belong to J.K. Rowling, except for my babies Piper, Tom/James, "Joseph"/Timothy, Jonathan Kelly, Yousuke Sakanoue.

**Disclaimer II:** The nickname "Dracums" belongs to Golden. :P

**A/N:** I have a few biggies for this chapter! Something that involves some serious hurt for our poor Drakie-poops, but there will also be something that makes Blaise realise one thing or another...

* * *

**And so the tables were turned... (14)**

Everyone was staring at the two young men as if they had just revealed the meaning of life – but the blank expressions did not feature fascination and wonder, but shock and disbelief. Everything was quiet in the Burrow, except for the baby noises that little James made as he, oblivious of the big event being played out before his very eyes, continued to play Firebolt. What had been intended to be a nice, quiet family dinner in the company of loved ones and friends had – to the Weasleys, mind you – turned into a dizzying stream of mind-boggling revelations that had totally transformed the night into something strange and unfamiliar. And when they had all sat down to dinner at the beginning of that evening they could not possibly have imagined that it would end in a proposal.

Draco, however, came out of his paralysis quite quickly, and like a true gal pal he shrieked shrilly, hysterically waving his arms about in front of him in excited happiness, and ran up to Ron, throwing himself around the redhead's neck. "Oh, my God, Ronnie! I am so happy for you! I can't believe you're actually getting married!"

The blonde's merry outbirst just made the others stare even more, gaping like stupid fish the whole bunch of them. Even Harry. But Draco and Ron leapt around and around and around in a happy circle, Jonathan soon joining them.

Bill sank down on the edge of the armchair, his face in his hands. Slowly shaking his red head, he whispered, "This is just too much. My sister's got the hots for a dead guy, and my youngest brother's marrying a male Muggle!" He seemed just about to utter the worn cliché "Where has the world gone to?" but spoke no more. Harry actually felt sorry for him.

Draco stopped in the middle of the floor. "But wait... _how_ are you going to get married?" he wondered, blinking in bewilderment. "I thought Muggles forbid all sorts of—"

"I've already thought about that," Jonathan informed them with a proud smile. "I smoothly asked Ron all about marriage in the magical world about a week ago, and he told me that you are allowed to marry whomever you like according to wizard law. All magical creatures are. And wizards marry Muggles every day."

"You're right," Draco said thoughtfully, "wizard law says nothing about prohibition against male-male marriages... and I heard of a unicorn marrying a Flobberworm once, so... Hell, I'm so jealous of you!" He gave them both friendly thumps on their backs as he shook his head with emotion.

Ron laughed and hit him on the arm. "You don't have to be, you know. All you gotta do is pop the question..."

Draco's face turned into an indignated grimace. "Excuse me?! Are you suggesting that I get bound down for life?! You're frigging mad! I don't need bloody marriage to be happy! I'm quite fine with things just as they are, thank you!"

Ron blinked in confusion. "But you just said—"

"Drop it, Ron," Harry warned urgently. "You don't want to go there, believe me."

Draco swirled around at Harry. "What the fuck are you saying? Are you bloody badmouthing me _**with me** present_?! I don't believe you! You just wait until I—"

Suddenly Bill flew up from the armchair, and he was even redder in the face than Draco was. With firm determination he grabbed the sleeve of Draco's shirt and began to pull him out of the room. "Okay, that's it! _That's it!_ Get out of here! You totally disgust me with your filthy gay ways of solving your problems, and you are _not_ going to do it in my family's home!" he said furiously.

For a moment Draco blinked in astonishment, but then he jerked his arms out of Bill's grasp. "What the Hell do you think you're doing?!" he yelled in offense. "How _dare_ you touch me? Hello! Malfoy –" he pointed at himself, and then he pointed at Bill "– Weasley. You do _not_ have the social or the genetic standard to have the right to touch me! Now back off or I'll turn your tongue into a frog!"

Harry dropped James's toy wand on the floor in shock. "Draco!" he breathed.

The blonde turned to him, his eyes a furious jet black. "And _you_!" he hissed. With a disgusted and indignated grimace on his flushed face, he eyed him from head to toe. "You're a disgrace to my body." He Disapparated without another word.

Harry stared at the spot he had just left. What had just happened? It was as if Draco had snapped completely and turned into a completely different person. That had not been an act to conceal sexual arousal; that had been genuine fury. And the way he had just left like that... It did not seem right. A vague recollection of Draco's strange behaviour on the night of Slutty Piper's death came back to him. The same change had been in his eyes then. But what did it mean?

He looked at Blaise as if questioning him about it.

The other boy merely shook his head.

Harry cleared his throat and shot a nervous smile at the Weasleys. "Sorry about that. It's been quite hard on Draco, everything around the house... I can't help him in my current state, so he pretty much has to do everything. He hasn't gotten much sleep the past few weeks, so he's probably very tired and testy, is all... I'm sure he didn't mean any of that..." But he could not convince himself. A lump of hard realisation had formed inside his heart. Something was going on with his lover, and he had no idea what. Nor did he know how to confront him about it, because he remembered all too well how Draco had reacted when he had asked him about Slutty's death.

He turned to Blaise again. "Well, shall we leave, then?" He took James's hand. Then he gave Mrs Weasley an apologetic smile. "Once again, Mrs. Weasley, I'm sorry about all this. We'll behave better next time, I promise."

When they were just about to leave, Ginny grabbed Blaises arm. "You have to ask me out some time!" she demanded forthrightly.

Blaise smiled. "I'll send you an owl."

* * *

Draco found himself in the third floor library and had no clue how he had got there. He had no memory of leaving the Burrow, and he sure as Hell had no memory of coming up here. He never set foot in the library because it had been _his father's _library and was packed with books on Dark magic. His hand trembling badly, he consulted his wrist watch. Eight forty-six. Had not they finished dinner at about seven-thirty? He was sure that Harry and he had gone upstairs at seven forty-five or so, which meant that they had caught Blaise and Ginny at about seven fifty-five... He'd lost forty-five minutes?! The blackouts were getting longer and longer. At first they had been real short – he had lost maybe two to five minutes each time – but eventually he had started to lose as much as thirty to sixty minutes at a time.

_What's happening to me?_ he thought miserably as he bent over the wash basin in the master bath. _Why am I having these blackouts? What am I doing when I black out?_

He splashed cold water into his face.

His hands would not stop shaking.

"What's happening to me?" he squealed.

"You're being possessed by your inner Malfoy," his reflexion in the mirror said merrily.

Draco glared at it with flaming eyes. "I hate magical mirrors," he muttered, and turned off the water.

"Now, don't get pessimistic," the mirror admonished.

"Fuck you."

He left the bathroom and cast a glance at the door to the library.

Why had he gone in there?

Then he looked down the other end of the long hallway. Where was Harry? Draco did not feel like being confronted by him just yet for some reason. But where could he go without being found?

He turned his head towards the staircase.

"Draco?"

He stiffened. Harry was just emerging from their bedroom. Tears were coming to Draco's eyes, and a huge lump formed in his chest. His heart ached. For some reason he felt ashamed; he just knew that he had done something to Harry, something really bad. "I'm sorry," he whispered without knowing why he was apologising. What had happened during those forty-five minutes?

Harry walked up to him with concern in his wonderfully silvery eyes. He slowly stroked Draco's right cheek with one hand. "It's all right," he said with a sad smile. "I know you didn't mean it. You're tired, that's all. You've had a lot of pressure on yourself for some time now."

A loud sob escaped Draco. "You forgive me? Just like that?"

"Of course I do, Dracums. I love you."

_But what did I do?_ Draco wanted to ask. _What did I **do**?_

"You might want to apologise to Bill, though."

"Why?"

Apparently Harry took it as if he was nonchalantly waving whatever he had done away and gave him a reproachful look. "You really hurt his feelings when you implied that he's less worth just 'cause he's a Weasley and not a Malfoy," Harry told him. "All he did was grab your arm."

"He did?" Draco said before he could stop himself. "I mean, he did offend me. I think." The last thing Draco remembered was Harry telling Ron to "drop it"; after that everything was blank. So, Bill had grabbed his arm and he had flipped out, eh? That was it? But what had he said to Harry..?

What had he done to Harry?

* * *

"Uuuuuuugggggghhhhhhhh..."

He tried to ignore it, because he was having the loveliest dream. They were both thin and strong and naked, and Harry was working his way down his chest at the moment. Which meant he definitely did not want to wake up. (Last night's blackout had been successfully erased from his mind.)

"Uuuuuurrrrggghhhhh..."

"Shut up."

Harry had reached his bellybutton now, and he knew that Draco was real sensitive around the bellybutton... oooohh, yeah...

"Uuuuurrggghhhh..."

He swirled around in fury, wide awake now. "What the Hell are you moaning for?!" he demanded.

Harry actually did not look so good. He was sweating and he seemed to have a hard time moving at all. "I'm sore all over...," he whined, "and every fucking muscle hurt..."

Draco sighed. "Yeah, well, that's pregnancy for you. You're more than seven months along – get used to it, it's only going to get worse from here on."

He lay back down with his back to Harry.

"Only going to get worse?! How am I going to _cope_ with this?!"

"Think about all the positive things about it. You get to feel the baby kick, and you get to create an immensely strong bond between the two of you... I'm supposed to have that."

"You sound sad. Are you sad you're not the pregnant one, Draco?"

"Yeah, I am! What did you expect? It's _my_ baby."

"No, it's _our_ baby. This time we actually get to share that experience, and that's special."

"But you've had him the longest. It's not fair."

"You want him back? Okay. Let's go see Piper, then. Maybe she has some brilliant ideas."

Draco helped Harry up from the bed and supported him as they carefully transported themselves to the first floor. He would not let Harry use the stairs or the fires in his current condition. He was even bigger than Draco had been in his seventh month! (With James, if that passed you by...) Luckily Piper was already up and about – and so was her husband.

Piper was currently giving Yousuke instructions for something in Japanese at a blinding rate; her words sounded only like gibberish in Draco's ears. "Erm... excuse me," he said, and cleared his throat. "We want our own bodies back – _now_. Harry's had my baby way too long – I want it back."

Harry moaned again. "He's kicking the shit out of me, I tell you! I want to be thin again!"

"I want to be fat again!" Draco said simultaneously.

"I want out of this pain!" Harry shrieked.

"I want into that pain!" Draco shrieked at the same time.

Harry stared at him. "You _want_ this pain?" he asked incredulously.

"Yes! It's _my_ pain! It's _my_ body, _my_ pregnancy, _my_ pain! I'm entitled to have it!"

Piper waved her arms about in front of herself in what she thought was a dismissive manner. "Lads, lads! Calm down! I think I have the perfect cure for this! I figured it out last night, just give me a minute..." She picked up her wand from the dinner table and swished it about a few times. "Corpilus Changae Domaeno!" A yellowish golden light erupted from the tip of her wand and enveloped the two of them.

When the light faded away, Draco looked at his sister expectantly. "Did it work?" he asked hopefully.

Piper was making a twisted, wry face. "Errr... no..." The way she was staring at them with wide-open eyes – and the way Yousuke behind her dropped the book he was holding and remained standing completely paralysed in place with his mouth hanging open – told Draco that something had gone utterly wrong, and he was almost afraid to look at himself. Swallowing hard, he forced himself to lower his gaze and inspect his body. What he saw made him shriek with fright. "What have you done?! _What have you done?!_" Harry noticed at the same moment, and they both began to scream and flail their arms wildly about as they realised the severity of their new condition. They were still in each other's bodies – and Draco's body was still pregnant, so none of that had changed, thank Merlin – but now they were also physically attached to one another. Yeah, that's right. Piper had turned them into co-joined twins, joined at the hips and shoulders.

She instantly raised her wand at them again. Speaking in an urgent tone of voice, she said, "Incantato Reverso!", and they went back to normal. Or, well, what had sort of been normal for them the past four months... Draco let out his breath in a deep sigh of relief. He could feel his left hand again. Good. But then his mood sank to a new anger-low and he lashed out at his sister. "What the Hell was that about?!" he accused in a fury.

Piper backed up a few steps. "I'm sorry, Draco, I really thought that'd do it – I swear!"

"That's not what I'm talking about! What was that spell you just used?"

"'Incantato Reverso'? Oh, that's just a Reversal Spell that reverses all spells and—"

"_So why didn't you use it on us four months ago when we switched bodies,_ _you dimwit??_" he shouted in her ear.

She covered her ears with her hands and squeased her eyes shut. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry! I didn't think of it back then, I was too shocked and too fascinated, my brain didn't work properly!"

"_How is that supposed to be a sufficient apology?!_" Draco hollered, and hit her on the arm. "Fuck you! It's been four months and you haven't even come _close_ to finding a cure for this! It should be simple, like saying 'Bodilo Changeo Backo' or something!" He stopped for a moment to look down at himself. "Yeah, well, I didn't exactly expect that to work, anyway..."

Draco sulked all day, and he was still in a sour mood when they went to bed that night. He refused to talk to Harry and just turned his back to him. But only two minutes later he changed his mind and turned back. In strong, desperate need of intimacy, he put his arm around Harry's huge belly and pressed as close as he could. Harry mumbled a sweet "Good night" and they soon fell into a deep, lovely sleep.

The moment Draco opened his eyes the following morning he knew something significantly had changed during the night. First of all, he felt as if he'd been run over by a Hippogriff; second, he had a terrible heartburn; third, his hair was in his eyes; and fourth, someone was holding him. Suddenly shaking, he peered down at himself. Gave a shriek of delight. "Harry! Harry, wake up!"

The raven-haired boy – once again raven-haired! – stirred beside him. Sleepily he lifted his head off the pillow. "Wha'?" But hardly had he uttered that one word before he noticed the difference. He sat up in an instant. "Draco! We're back in our own bodies! How did that happen?!"

Draco looked up at him with loving eyes and an affectionate smile. "I don't know, and I don't care," he whispered gently. "All I care about is I got my baby back."

Harry bent down and planted a kiss on Draco's lips. Then he looked him deep into the eyes. Draco was so relieved that they were green again. "I love you, Draco. And I'm bloody glad you don't look like me anymore."

Draco laughed. "Why? I thought you loved to be fucked by yourself, you kinky bastard."

Harry snuggled up closer, and with his lips to Draco's said: "Damn, you saw right through me." Draco opened his mouth and welcomed his tongue with hot anticipation.

"I want you," he whispered into Harry's mouth, his breathing already accelerating a few notches.

Harry's hand searched its way down the blonde's belly to more sensitive regions. "But I thought you didn't want to when you were—"

"No, _you're_ the one who didn't want to," Draco objected, "I've wanted to make love to you all along, and being pregnant again doesn't change anything. I want you inside of me – I _need_ you inside of me. You can still please me... We just need to lie on our sides, is all."

Draco flipped over so that he had his back to Harry.

Harry covered his back with hot kisses before entering him. The blonde gasped as he finally got what he wanted. Harry felt somewhat uncomfortable with making love to Draco when his back was turned to him – he wanted to see his face, otherwise it felt as if he was stealing something precious without asking permission first. But eventually the blonde's responses and the unmistakable excited noises he made captured Harry's attention, and he totally forgot his previous reservations. It was difficult to thrust when lying on his side – he had never done it before – and when Draco said, "Harder! Harder!", and he could not do it any harder because the mattress slowed him down as his hip slid on the crisp sheets he just felt _so frustrated_!

"Harry, harder, harder!"

"I'm fuckin' tryin' but I can't!" he growled in Draco's ear.

"It doesn't matter," Draco breathed, and took a hold of Harry's left hand. Shaking slightly, he directed it to his crotch and encouraged him to grasp his erection. Harry immediately understood what he wanted him to do and began to stroke him feverishly as he simultaneously continued to thrust as deep inside him as he could get.

"Aaah!" Harry pounded into him again and again and again, and it was hard for him to concentrate on moving his hand too. "Fuck, yeah!" He did not know who of them said it, because to him they were one being, one entity, and he could not tell his limbs from Draco's, could not tell his words from the blonde's. They just melted together for a wonderful short-lasting moment.

Draco squealed and loosened his grip on Harry's left hand. Harry could feel his limb slacking and was amazed at how quiet Draco had come – he always screamed out loud at the height of pleasure. But, well, Harry did not scream either; he simply sighed happily and slumped against the blonde's back. Neither of them said anything for more than five minutes.

Quietly, they decided to go downstairs and have breakfast. Draco was eager to tell Piper the good news and almost skipped into the dining room despite the heavy weight he was carrying. When she spotted him from the other end of the room, she lit up as if she already knew and came leaping towards them. "Piper!" Draco exclaimed happily and stood beaming and almost jumping in place.

"Draco!" Piper said at the same time and with the same excited tone of voice, but she did not stop but went right past him. "Guess what!"

"Guess what!" Draco said simultaneously before he realised that Piper was skipping up to Harry and not him. Getting angry and offended, he swirled around. "Hey! I'm talking to you!"

But Piper ignored him. She grabbed Harry's hands and jumped up and down with excitement. "Draco, you cannot _ever_ imagine what's happened, it is just too amazing!" she chirruped.

Harry blinked in bewilderment. He tried to smile but only managed half a grimace. "Um... I'm not Draco – I'm Harry," he said numbly.

Piper immediately stopped jumping up and down and stared at him with astonishment. "You are? But then you..."

"We changed back!" Draco said over-excitedly and hurried up to her. "Look! I'm myself again! I don't know how we did it, but we must've done something!"

Piper nodded. "I'm impressed. You fixed it even without my help."

"Oh, and you were _so_ helpful!" Draco moaned sarcastically. "Anyway, what was it that you wanted to say?"

His sister lit up again. "I'm pregnant!" she squealed happily. "Yousuke and I are having a baby!"

Draco stared at her in disbelief for so long Harry feared he might have turned into a statue. He actually knocked on the blonde's shoulder to see if he reacted. That was like a wakeup-call for Draco. He sprang into life with immense fury and lashed out at his sister. "_Whaaaat?!_ You're bringing _another one _into my home?! Can't you _ever_ just get into your bloody mind that I don't want you here!? Get your _own_ fucking place if you want to have children! This is _my_ house – I inherited it when our father died. It belongs to me and Harry and _our_ children. I don't want no fucking mini-Piper running around here disturbing me twenty-four seven! Get rid of it or move!"

And with those harsh words, he turned suddenly on his heel and stormed out of the room.

* * *

Blaise had sensed something different about Draco for some time now. Sometimes he acted weird or said weird things – like he had done the night of the Weasleys' family dinner. Therefore Blaise decided to do some digging. When both Harry and Draco were having breakfast in the dining room, he stealed up to the third floor to quickly go through their bedroom to see if he could find any proof of Draco's change. He searched through drawers and cabinets and loads of other spaces but found nothing. Not that he'd actually expected Draco to leave something behind in his own bedroom where Harry easily could find them.

Furthermore he went to the library where he knew thousands of ancient books on Dark magic were stored neatly on hundreds and yet hundreds of shelves. Shutting the door behind himself, he cast a quick glance around the large room. Taking out his wand, he said, "Prevolious Usageae." It was a semi-advanced spell that could be used to point out the object – or objects – that had last been used within a confined space. Now he carefully surveyed the many shelves to spot the book – or books – that had last been taken out. In aisle five, he hit a bingo. A large book with a dusty black leather cover shone in pale, misty lime green.

Blaise took it out. "Prevolious Pagero." The book automatically flipped open to the most recently opened page. Blaise's eyes narrowed into thin slits. He looked at the numbers at the bottom of the pages again to make sure that he was not imagining things. 652 – 655. An entire sheet had been ripped out. Pages 653 and 654. What could be on those particular pages?

Blaise looked at the cover of the enormous spell book.

_Deadly Potions and Poisonous Draughts_, _vol. 33_.

Now there was no doubt about it. There _was_ something utterly wrong with Draco, and jugding by the proof that were now before him Blaise reached the conclusion that someone must have tampered with his mind. Someone must have cursed him or forced him to drink a potion that made him... what? Evil? That made him Dark?

Blaise wanted to help his best friend, but unless he found out exactly what Draco had wanted from _Deadly Potions and Poisonous Draughts _he could not do much. To be able to figure out a way to salvage Draco's soul and free him of whatever external influence had changed him he needed to find out which potion Draco had wished to make. And why.

And there was one room in which he would probably find his answers.

Checking the hallway to make sure that no-one was in sight, he sneaked out of the library and down the stairs to the second floor. There he walked down the long hallway and turned left into the south wing. Hidden behind a tapestry of Lucius Malfoy himself (which was irremovable, otherwise Harry and Draco never would have left it up) was a secret door to the ladder room. He tapped the second button from the top on Lucius's expensive travelling cloak, which he was wearing in the portrait, with his wand, and the silver-haired man instantly smiled deviously to greet him. "Ah, young Mr Zabini. Come to stir things up, have you?" he said, and the tapestry swung aside. The ladder room held only one thing within its depth; a steel ladder which was the only way to get down to the dungeons beneath the Manor. Blaise had only been down there twice, and always together with Draco and his father. To descend into the darkness below now felt awkward and unnerving, because he had never thought that he would have to go back down there.

The dungeons beneath the Malfoy Manor were protected with a series of very advanced repelling spells that ensured that no-one could get inside them with the help of magic. As far as Blaise knew, not even Piper had succeeded to find a way around those spells. The only way to get there was to climb down the ladder, and only so many people knew about the secret room behind the tapestry. Blaise doubted that Draco had even told Harry about it.

He turned right in the narrow tunnel and hurried by the chambers on each side of him. When he had almost reached the end of the long tunnel, a door swung open in front of him. Startled to find that someone else was down there, but quick to act on his instinct telling him to hide, he backed into one of the small chambers and waited for whoever it was to pass. Trying his best not to make a single sound – a mere breath of air could give off multiple echoes down there – he steeled himself and tried to make himself as small as possible.

He could hear the footsteps coming up from the last chamber.

Closer. Closer...

The person passed him rather quickly, but there was no mistaking who it was because he was preceeded by an enormous belly and his silver hair shone eerily in the darkness of the dungeons.

Blaise gave a start. Harry was in the dungeons? But how could he even know about them? It made no sense.

When he was sure that Harry had gone back up to the main building, Blaise sneaked out from his hiding place and hurried down the last bit of stone tunnel. He opened the door with the Alohomora spell.

He was inside the Potion Chamber. In there one could find everything that one might need to make any potion there was – especially the bad ones. Blaise almost immediately spotted the cauldron that had been placed in the middle of one of the long tables merely because greenish-blue smoke billowed up from it. It was churning and bubbling and boiling.

And beside it lay the missing page from the book. According to that, the potion that was being made in there was called Masamadie, but Blaise could not make out exactly what it was supposed to do because it was written in latin. That's weird, he thought. The potion's called Masamadie but the instructions are written in latin? Masamadie's not latin! But when he looked at the ingredients that were piled up around the cauldron he felt his intestines turn to ice. That mix was deadly all right.

Feeling sick, he went back upstairs to talk to Draco. Because if Harry made deadly potions in the dungeons, Draco ought to know just what kind of maniac he was living with.

He found him in the parlour – as usual – where he was currently practising a charm of some kind. He looked up as Blaise entered the room. "Hey," he said expectantly.

Blaise went right up to him to make sure that no-one else but him heard what he had to say. "Draco, I saw Harry emerge from the Potion Chamber," he whispered urgently. "Did you know that he knew about it?"

Draco blinked at him in confusion. "First of all, you've got us mixed up," he said, and surprised Blaise. "We turned back this morning – don't ask me why 'cause neither of us has found that out yet. So the person you saw was Draco. I'm Harry."

It took Blaise a few seconds to understand what he had just said. "You're Harry?"

"Yeah."

"Oh my God."

He could not tell him. He just could not tell him. Instead he hurried out of the parlour in search of the real Draco, hoping to find his best friend and not "the other".

Draco was in the kitchen. "Draco! What the fuck are you making in the dungeons?" he asked, suddenly flaming with fury.

The blonde turned around with a vicious grin on his face. "Well, well, if it isn't Blaise Zabini. Long time no see. I thought you were dead."

Blaise stiffened. That was not Draco.

The blonde took a few steps towards him. "Why so quiet? Don't you even recognise your own best friend? Have you forgotten everything we did already?"

No. This could not be. He had turned back into his old self? Into the Draco Malfoy that Lucius had raised to become a loyal Death Eater? How could that have happened?

"Do you really wanna know what potion I'm making in the dungeons, Blaise? All right. I'll tell you. It's a very special, very complex potion, it is. It kills feotuses without harming the parent regardless of the trimester you're in. Now that I've finally got my body back I need to get rid of this thing inside of me. Having Saint Potter's baby isn't exactly worthy of a Malfoy, is it?"

Blaise backed away in fright.

The cold sneer on the blonde's lips widened. "Unfortunately I have to get rid of you too now. Can't have you running to Potter and tell on me, now can I?"

Blaise shuddered as a demonic bark of laughter escaped the blonde.

* * *

"Where's Blaise? I haven't seen him all morning." Draco sat down on the couch with some effort. He did not even notice Cho at first, but then he saw her sitting in the armchair right next to him and jerked. "_You're_ here?" he stated disapprovingly. "How... nice. Not afraid of me anymore then, I take it."

She feigned astonishment. "Afraid of you? When was I ever afraid of you?"

Harry was standing in the middle of the floor practising Capture Spells for his Auror class. "Blaise came here just ten minutes ago claiming to have seen you emerging from the Potion Chamber," he said indifferently and inspected his wand. "Do you know what he meant by that?"

He thought he saw Draco jerk slightly. "Er... no, I have no idea what he meant by that. We don't have any potion chamber in the Manor." He was silent for a long while. Then, he added: "Wonder what he meant."

"Yeah, it's a mystery, don't you think?" Harry laughed bitterly. "Funny that he should disappear right after he said it, too."

Draco frowned. "Disappear? What do you mean?"

"He just ran out of here and didn't come back. You said yourself that you haven't seen him all morning. Seems to me he disappeared all right." He polished the tip of his wand somewhat.

Draco hastily rose from his seat. Going pale grey, he uttered a muffled excuse and hurried out of the room. Harry looked after him, wondering if the blonde knew something about Blaise's disappearance or if he simply was shocked by it and did not know how to handle it. But he did not get much time to brood it, because in the next moment Joseph showed up right before him. "Harry, you need to get ready – Pywercaseley's coming here," he said with an expression of urgency on his face.

"What? But the forcefield—"

"It won't work. He's found a way to break through it. You need to get Draco out of here quickly, this is going to get ugly."

The boy vanished.

Harry wanted to yell "Stay and help, then, you ungrateful brat!" but did not.

Damn. Now, where had the blonde gone?

Fortunately, Draco returned only seconds thereafter, looking a bit better than he had when he left the parlour. Harry tried to think of a way to get him out of there without having to tell him why because it would only make him want to stay and fight. But he could think of nothing. In lack of anything else, he said, "Draco, I... er... I need to tell you something... I, er..."

"Slept with me," Cho suddenly said, standing beside him with one arm around his shoulders.

He turned to her in fright. Oh no!

Draco frowned. "What?"

Cho squeased his shoulder. "What Harry's trying to say is we've slept together," she elaborated. "Twice," she added almost like an afterthought.

The blonde blinked stupidly. "What? You mean like you were tired and happened to fall asleep next to each other or..?"

She shook her head. "No. We had sex. Lovely animal sex."

Harry wished he could vanish, too. What the Hell was she saying?! That's not what he'd meant by getting Draco out of there fast and without questions! This would _hurt_ him!

Draco looked at Harry. Something dark had come over his eyes. "What is she talking about, Harry? Surely you haven't slept with her, have you?"

"I..." Oh, God, it was already too late, he could just as well play along and at least have the comfort of knowing that Draco would leave without questioning anything. He sighed. "Yes."

The blonde raised his eyebrows in shock. "What?" he whispered.

Harry felt as if he was dying on the inside. "I'm sorry, Dracums," he said, but what he was really apologising for was having to put him through it. "I never meant to—"

"You're kidding me, right?" Draco said, and laughed disbelievingly, tears streaming down his pale face. "You've got to be kidding me. You've never done anything like that – you're just joking, right?"

"I... I..."

"Fuck you." He Disapparated before Harry could finish his sentence.

* * *

At first Draco did not know what to do. It just hurt so bad. He had never thought that he would feel this way if he ever found out that Harry had cheated on him, but he felt like dying over and over again for every agonising minute that passed. And he just could not stop crying. Tear after tear fell from his eyes, and he almost choked on the loud sobs that escaped his tight throat. How could he? How the fuck _could _he? He must have done it that very morning, because that had been the only time that Draco had not been with him. Had they just dressed up again when he entered the room?

That was just unbelievable!

_He cheated on me with a **girl**_, Draco thought grimly. _**A girl.**_

And not just any girl at that. _His ex girlfriend_. Harry Potter – gay? Like Hell! He had lied to Draco all these years, lied about his own sexual orientation... naturally he _had_ to be bisexual. And of course he could not resist the occassional urge to get some pussy for a change! Draco's arse was obviously not good enough anymore.

And when he was almost eight months pregnant!

He spent days and days wallowing in his misery, trying to figure out why Harry had done it. And eventually he came to the conclusion that he had not done it at all. Suddenly it all seemed so clear. The way Harry had peered at him in shame as he came back into the room had not been because he had done something nasty; it had been because something was about to happen and he needed to get Draco out of there fast. Draco knew that look. Harry, who'd always been a lousy lier, had tried to come up with a reason good enough to keep Draco away for a few hours – and Cho had given it to him without his consent. That must be how it was.

Confident that his Harry had not cheated on him at all, he transported himself right back to the Manor. He found him almost immediately, kneeling beside James in the downstairs hallway, both of them looking ready to go out into the sunny weather and play in the snow.

When Harry noticed him he stood up warily. His eyes were so filled with pain it hurt Draco. "Baby...," he began, but Draco would not let him finish.

"You didn't do it, did you?" he stated. "I figured it out. You just wanted me out of here to protect me again, didn't you? Just tell me the truth and I'll forgive you."

Harry sighed with relief. "Dracums, I am so sorry, I never meant to fool you into believing I had actually slept with Cho, she never should have said that. If you still need proof of my innocence we can ask Snape to make some verita serum."

"That won't be necessary," Draco promised. "Just tell me what happened."

Harry told him how Lord Pywercaseley had come to the Manor to try to eliminate them again. Fortunately Piper had stood by with her clones and attacked the moment the Death Eaters showed up there. They had not been strong enough to fight them off; all of them had died in combat. But at least they had managed to drive Pywercaseley away. He was too yellow-bellied to attack them with so many of his men killed by the clones before they died themselves.

"You promised you wouldn't ever do that again, Harry," Draco reminded him.

"I know, but this was different. Look at you. You're in no condition to defend yourself, and that is why I've asked Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia to let you come stay with them for the remainder of your pregnancy."

_(To be continued...)_

"Boku o michibiku kasuka-na shiruetto..."

* * *

**_Got another chapter out! Yaaaaay! X3 How do you think Draco'll react to Harry's "brilliant" idea of having him stay with the Dursleys?! Bwahaha... I just luuuurve creating situations like these! X3_**

**_Read & Review you guys!  
Love, Piper_**


	41. And so the tables were turned, part 15

**Rating:** PG-16/OOC

**Pairing:** H/D and R/J

**Disclaimer:** All the characters belong to J.K. Rowling, except my darlings Piper, Tom/James, "Joseph"/Timothy, Joz, Jonathan Kelly, Magami and Yousuke Sakanoue.

**Disclaimer II:** The nickname "Dracums" belongs to Golden, the queen of HP & LOTR slash!

**A/N:** Hey you guys, I think Draco has found a new best friend...

**A/N II:** The Department of Legal Unions and Break-ups does not exist to my knowledge, I made that up.

* * *

**And so the tables were turned... (15)**

For a moment all was quiet.

Draco could not believe what Harry had just said. "Excuse me? The Dursleys? _The bloody fucking Dursleys!? _You're fucking dumping me with those _gits_?!"

What the fuck was going on?! First, it had been his 20th birthday, and instead of spending it just the two of them, alone, as had originally been planned they had agreed to come to the Weasley family gathering. Second, Harry had learnt that Pywercaseley was coming for them, and to get pregnant Draco out of the Manor he had lied and said that he was cheating on him with Cho. And now, when they were finally patching things up, when they were _finally_ getting somewhere again, he was sending him off to _the Dursleys_?!

"Please, don't get mad," Harry was quick to beg, "I know it's not exactly what we've discussed, but as long as Pywercaseley's intent on storming the Manor we have to keep you out of here."

"Like Hell we are!" Draco yelled, red in the face.

"Please, Draco, try to understand. It is for your own good!"

"My own good?! My arse! This is just yet another one of your egotistic attempts to protect me when I don't need to be protected, when all I want is to stay here with you! Did you even consider what _I_ want?"

"Of course I did! But it's not about that! This is about your safety! And _our baby's _safety! Look at yourself, Draco! You can hardly move and you need help just getting out of the bed in the morning! Do you really think you can protect yourself from the Death Eaters when you're as fat as that? Huh? Don't you want Joseph to be safe, Draco?"

The blonde opened his mouth to reply acidically, but then he realised that Harry was right. As long as he had that huge belly to carry around he would be of no good to Harry or anyone else that needed protection. He could not even protect himself, just like Harry said, so how was he to protect his family? Reluctantly he admitted to himself that Harry indeed had a point and agreed to go to the Dursleys – and if they treated him all right he would indeed stay for the remainder of his pregnancy. But if they were not curteous enough he would not stay for _nothing_. Harry was not very pleased with those conditions, but seeing as it seemed to be the only way to make Draco go he accepted them.

Since it had already been proven that the fireplace in the Dursleys' parlour was not fit for Floo powder journeys – and the Dursleys did not like them to arrive unannounced and materialise out of thin air – the front door was the only option. Therefore they needed to take drastic measures to cover up the fact that a pregnant man was going to take up residence at 4 Privet Drive for six weeks. Very reluctantly and feeling totally ludicrous, Draco allowed himself to be escorted up to the Dursleys' door wearing an enormous flowery dress, black court shoes, an embarrassingly old-lady-looking red hat, and enough makeup to make a dozen teenage girls feel smart and spry. Say what you will about Harry, but he had no fucking clue when it came to girls.

Harry's aunt stared in shock and disgust at him as she opened the door, and he could not really blame her. He looked completely aweful. Just aweful. Horrible, even. Terrifyingly ugly. "Er... hi," he said insecurely as Harry pushed him through the door, not even bothering to sound like a girl.

Petunia Dursley stared at his stomach with disliking little eyes. She pursed her lips and dignantly straightened her neck. Looking at Harry, she said, "Vernon would like a word with you. He's in there." She pointed one of her long fingers towards the parlour.

Harry looked at Draco, and with his hands on Draco's belly said, "Would you like to stay here and wait for me or would you rather come with me in there?"

Draco gazed down the short hall. "I'm not sure I want to go anywhere looking like this," he muttered with a pout. "But I don't want to just stand around here, either. It's difficult to breathe when I'm standing up."

Harry forced a reassuring smile. "If you're not pleased with your disguise, please feel free to change it," he joked.

"You don't have to say that twice." Draco withdrew his wand from inside the dress. Petunia gasped in fright and made Draco shift his attention to her again. "It's all right, I'm not gonna use it on you," he promised in an almost friendly tone of voice. "I'm just going to change outfits." Ponting his wand at himself, he said, "Colluthia!" The hideous flowery dress was exchanged for a pair of enormous black maternity trousers and a nice, soft checkered flannel shirt in white and blue. He wiped the makeup off his face with another easy spell and kicked off the court shoes. "There, that's much better. Now let's go see your uncle."

They walked into the parlour, where Vernon Dursley was sitting in his favourite armchair by the small fireplace and Dudley seemed to have moved into the sofa. He was currently wolfing down a bowl of butter-and-cheese flavoured popcorns. Draco felt his mouth watering as he saw them but restrained himself.

Vernon's small beetle eyes narrowed as he saw Harry with his life partner and looked totally disgusted at the obvious fact that they were having intimate relations with one another. "So, you're here," he stated.

"Yeah," Harry said in a stiff, uneasy voice. Draco could tell that he was doing his best to repress the hatred that he felt for these people. "I can't thank you enough for taking Draco in for a while, it's really... er... nice of you. I promise you that he will be of no trouble at all – he won't do anything funny whatsoever. Will you, Dracums?"

Draco started. "Huh? Oh, yeah. I mean – no. Nothing funny at all."

Vernon's eyes narrowed further.

"Anyway, if there is any trouble at all you can just call me... I don't have a phone, but Draco will show you how to contact me. I'll check in on him at least once a week. And, I should probably warn you about this—" he leant in a little closer to Vernon and whispered so that Draco would not hear, but he heard anyway "—he can be real moody and testy because of all the hormones, but just give him something to eat and ignore him and he'll be fine."

"Hey!" Draco said. "I'm not a fucking weep machine or nothing if that's what you're implying!"

"No, you're an _eat_ machine," Harry sighed. "Anyway, if there wasn't anything else... I need to go." He gave Draco a quick kiss on the cheek, said bye to everyone, and went out the front door.

Draco stood in indecision for a while. Harry's aunt and uncle were watching him warily as if they expected him to turn them all into frogs any second. He would have to put up with this for six whole weeks?! Man, he would die there – of tristess! After a few awkward moments in the spotlight, Draco turned towards Harry's cousin – and spotted the funny-looking box with moving pictures. Fascinated he moved closer to the couch on which Dudley was sitting. The fat young man had temporarily stopped to eat and was staring at him with his mouth hanging open. A popcorn was stuck to his lower lip. "What's that?" Draco asked, and pointed at the lighted box.

Nobody answered at first.

"I-it's a TV set," Dudley stuttered after a while.

Draco frowned. "TV set? What's that? What does it do?"

"Er..." Dudley stared at him as if he was mad or something. "It shows movies and stuff... TV shows..."

Draco met his gaze. "Movies? Never heard of it. How do you make the pictures move without magic?"

All three members of the Dursley family twitched at the word 'magic'.

But eventually Dudley swallowed hard and tried his best to explain to Draco how a TV worked. The blonde listened in fascination and marvelled over the cleverness that the Muggles possessed. Just to think of such a device! And to be able to create it without the faintest trace of magic! That was just amazing. Brilliant, even.

Carefully, he walked up to the TV and stretched out his hand in front of him. Trembling slightly, he touched the surface of the screen and received a small electric shock with a POP! Draco cried out in surprise and backed away. Then he began to laugh out loud, holding his hand over his stomach. He laughed so hard it hurt in the pit of his stomach, but he just could not stop.

The Dursleys all stared at him as if he was raving mad.

Draco touched the screen again, got another shock, and laughed even harder.

And as if finally realising that Draco was human just like him, Dudley began to chuckle quietly.

* * *

He had never had so much fun in his life, and it seemed kind of ironic that the most fun in his life should be planning his wedding. Never in his life had he even _imagined_ that he'd ever get married. That certainly had not been one of his fantasies when he had been head over heels in love with Hermione. And now that he was seeing a _bloke_!

Ginny willingly – and happily! – helped them with the planning and the preparation, something that Ron had hoped Harry would have been able to be there for, but Harry had his own preparation to do at the moment. A stab of guilt and shame twisted his guts and heart. He should be helping Harry instead of joking around. They could get married at any time, but Harry could not die more than once. Therefore he should help them get the protection shield up _before_ his bloody rogue brother for a Dark Lord surprised him with a curse between the eyes.

"Ron? Ron, are you all right?"

Jonathan was watching him with a worried wrinkle between his eyebrows. Although he was trying his best to be serious he still looked extremely ludicrous and comical. It was just impossible for that man to look stern and grave.

Ron forced a small smile. "Yeah, I'm a'right," he lied. Leaning closer to the kitchen table, he said, "What have we got?"

"Well, we've taken care of the food and the music," Ginny informed him, "but we've still got a few details left."

"Such as...?"

"Well, for once, shouldn't you be having bachelor parties if you're getting married?"

Ron blinked.

She was looking at him with a merry expectation.

"Er... bachelor parties?" he mumbled blankly.

"Yeah, to celebrate your last night as a free man," Ginny elaborated.

Ron squirmed a bit. "You make it sound as if we're going to the gaol or something..."

His sister laughed and slapped his shoulder in a friendly manner. "Don't you worry, Ron! They don't imprison people for getting married! No, what I meant was, this is tradition. Might be more of a Muggle tradition than a wizard tradition, but it's catching on, you know. Jonathan, what do you say? You want a bachelor party together with your mates before settling down for ever?"

She was joking – Ron knew she was joking – but it sounded as if she truly believed that they would eventually be unhappy together and that there would be nothing to do about it then. That was probably supposed to make him brood about his future and reconsider everything, but it did not work. He had never been this sure about anything in his life; he loved Jonathan and wanted to spend the rest of his life with him. End of conversation.

Jonathan laughed. "Yeah, I would just like to see their faces! If I invited them to a _bachelor party_ they'd think I'd gone hetero on them and desert me for ever! And if I told them I'm marrying a bloke they'd want to know which planet I'd marry him on, because as far as they know there is no place on Earth you can marry another bloke. So I think we'll skip that tradition, won't we?"

Ron planted a fleeting kiss on his cheek. "I couldn't agree with you more. Since my brothers would feel totally awkward with coming to an all-guys' bachelor party without female strippers there pretty much is no choice than to forget the idea altogether. Harry is busy creating a new forcefield around the Manor and Draco's too pregnant to participate in any festivities. The only person I can think of inviting besides them is Neville Longbottom, and just imagine the mess we'd be in with him for our only guest!"

* * *

The first three days at the Dursleys' were quite dreary and tiring, because they always gasped and backed away as soon as he made the smallest movement, and the words 'magic', 'wizard', 'conjure', and 'spell' elicited strong reactions that made him start in surprise. Eventually he came to the conclusion that it was best not to use them at all, because it was getting boring to watch them shriek in fright and cover their faces in defense – except for Dudley, who covered his buttocks instead. According to Harry this was because of an incident nine years ago when Hagrid had come to collect Harry and take him shopping in Diagon Alley in preparation for his first year at Hogwarts.

Draco remembered that day clearly. It had been his first encounter with Harry, at Madam Maulkin's. They had both been fitted with their very first Hogwarts robes. Funny to think that they had only been small boys back then, totally oblivious of each other's identities and backgrounds, and now they had a family together.

Breakfast on the fourth morning brought nothing new for Draco. He asked Petunia's permission to make his own breakfast as usual, because he noticed that she behind all that disgust and condescendance appreciated that he at least asked her first. So he set about bringing out a small pot for his eggs with his wand. They still had not gotten used to his using magic for cooking yet, but he ignored their tensed postures and wary eyes and simply went about his business as always in the mornings. He put the tip of his wand inside the pot, and water immediately started to pour out of the tip of it. When the pot was filled, he directed his wand at the refrigerator. "Accio eggs." The package came flying out of the fridge with moderate speed and landed safely on the kitchen counter. He made three eggs fly into the pot of mildly boiling water.

While waiting for the eggs to boil he magically made two sandwiches for himself and cut a grapefruit into four equally sized quarters. As he sat down at the table ready to eat his breakfast, he noticed that Dudley was ogling his food. Dudley himself was only allowed a quarter of a grapefruit and half a slice of wholemeal bread. Draco ignored him and began to eat his food with spirited grace.

When he'd eaten half his meal, he stopped temporarily and moaned with irritation. The other people at the table instantly turned their attention to him, afraid that he would curse them. "Ooooh, man, I'm so horny!" Draco complained with no regard for their will to hear this or not.

Petunia dropped her tea spoon and Vernon, whom was turning the page in his newspaper, accidentally ripped off the whole thing. Dudley simply stared at him with his mouth hanging open.

"What did you say, boy?" Vernon prodded with great dislike.

"I said I'm horny," Draco repeated, well aware that they were totally disgusted with his and Harry's relationship. Then, struck by a malicious impulse, he turned to Dudley. "Dudley, would you please help me?"

The fat boy-man whimpered but did not move a muscle. His parents had frozen in fear. Draco strained to keep a straight face, but on the inside he was dying with laughter and glee. "Well?" he said to Dudley. "Are you going to help me or not?"

Dudley suddenly managed to shake his head feverishly. "No... no, no! D-d-do it yourse-self!"

"But that's no fun!" Draco protested exasperatedly.

At that moment Vernon rose to his full height and slammed his paper down on the table. "That is _enough_!" he thundered, his face purple with anger and indignation. "You will _not_ make my son a... a... a... one of _you_!"

Draco burst into a fit of laughter. "Relax! I'm only kidding!" he said after forcing himself to stop because it was giving him a stitch in the side. The baby kicked as if to say "That was a good one, Dad!" Draco looked at them one by one. "Did you really think I'd persuade your son into giving me head? You're ruddy mad! I wouldn't _dream_ of doing that! I wouldn't want him near me even if he was the last man on the planet!" He burst out laughing again. "You people are just something..."

He needed something to do, something to amuse him. Or else he would not stand another day in that house. They all treated him as if he was a piece of garbage which stank of decay. Most of the time they ignored him, and that was fine. For a while. But then he got bored with them. So he decided to try and persuade them into engaging in a game of Exploding Snap or wizard's chess after washing up. When he was standing in the bathroom, brushing his teeth, with the door open, Dudley passed in the hallway. "Hey!" Draco called after him, and after a few moments' hesitation he came back and stood in the doorway. Draco was watching his reflection in the mirror. "Doesn't Muggle mirrors talk back at you when you speak?" he asked him.

Dudley blinked stupidly. "What? Talk back?"

"Yeah. Magical mirrors always talk back at you, and they're always so bloody condescending. It's like talking to your father with the only exception that he's got my face."

Dudley actually chuckled a little. Draco found that encouraging.

"Wanna see for yourself?" he asked the fat boy.

Dudley's face turned pale grey with worry and fear. "Wha-what do you mean?" he stuttered.

"Let me see... What was that spell again? Ah! Miragio!" Golden sparks shot out of the wandtip and hit the mirror. For a moment the glass surface seemed to melt, but then it went back to its original state. Draco turned to Harry's cousin. "Now watch this." Taking a deep breath, he faced his reflection in the mirror. Boy, he hated bloody magical mirrors. "Ugh, I look awful today. I feel ugly and fat. I have to go on a diet."

"Oooh, don't be so pessimistic, dear!" his reflection sported. "You look terrific with that healthy podge!"

Draco turned back to the stunned Dudley. "See? They always have to talk back at you." To the mirror, he said: "Yeah... maybe I ain't half that bad. Maybe I _am_ okay as I am? I think I'm going to stick to my normal diet and just be happy with myself as I am."

"That's the spirit!" the mirror replied.

Dudley carefully edged forward to have a better look at the mirror. "Do-does it really talk? Really?"

"Yeah, it talks _too_ much!" Draco said with emphasis. "Wanna have a try?" Leaning in closer to the fat boy, he added in a whisper: "But don't tell anyone, okay? I'm not supposed to do this. It's against wizard law to bewitch Muggle Artefacts and I could get in real nasty trouble if the Ministry learnt that I had put a hex on a mirror."

To Draco's great surprise, they had much fun with the hexed mirror, and Dudley seemed to get more and more relaxed in his company. Draco was glad, because he did not think he would have been able to keep up his spirits for much longer without a single friendly face around. So if he could not have his family and his friends around, he had to make the best of the situation and try to get the Dursleys to at least accept him and be courteous.

When they both grew tired with the irritating mirror, Draco reversed the spell. He suggested different wizard games that they could engage in, but Dudley was way too much of a coward to dare a try at any of them, so (pouting) Draco agreed to come downstairs and watch some TV instead. But before he had reached the sofa –

Draco cried out in fright as he saw the half-melted, half-burnt orange creature pass outside the window and startled both Dudley and Vernon, who was sitting in an armchair by the fireplace. "What the Hell are _they_ doing here?!" he yelled and hysterically pointed at the windows. Vernon shot up from his chair and swirled around towards the windows, apparently expecting the very worst if even a wizard got scared of it. But it had already gone.

Shaking to the bone, Draco pulled out his wand and said, "Accio leather bag!", and the small brown bag containing his Floo powder came flying down the stairs from his trunk. As soon as he had it in his hand he went to the electric fireplace and forced it open with a quick spell.

Behind him, Vernon came thundering in fury. "Hey! What do you think you're doing?!"

But he did not listen. He directed his wand at the inside of the fake fireplace. "Incendio!" Flames erupted from the tip of his wand and began to lick the walls of the fireplace.

Remembering what had happened last someone used this spell, Vernon stopped dead in his tracks and just stared at the fire.

Draco tore the leather bag open in a furious frenzy and grabbed half a handful of Floo powder. Without thinking twice, he threw it into the fire. Great green flames sprang up. "_HARRYYYY!_" Draco yelled into the fire. "_You get your arse over here right now!_"

Since he had used less powder than usually, the green flames died in an instant and were replaced by much smaller flames the regular colour.

It was only a moment before Harry appeared out of thin air behind and slightly to the left of him.

"What is it?" he asked.

Vernon sank back down into his armchair at the sight of Harry Apparating in, and Dudley was cowering against the wall, making pathetic little squeaking noises.

Petunia appeared in the doorway from the kitchen, her face pale with fear.

Draco went for Harry's neck. "_What the hell are **they** doing here!?_" he growled, beside himself with fury caused by his deep fear of the Forgettes.

Harry blinked sheepishly. "Who? The Dursleys? They live here, Draco..."

"_Not **them**!_ The Forgettes! What the fuck are the _Forgettes_ doing here?!"

It took Harry a few seconds to digest his words. "The Forgettes?" he echoed. "They're _here_? Where?" He started to look around the room, which obviously frightened his relatives even more.

Draco pointed at the windows. "I saw them out there!" he meowled. "Make them go away!"

Harry went out the back door and calmly walked around the house. He did not come back for more than five minutes. "They're gone now," he reported as he had closed the back door behind himself once more. "Apparently they thought it was their duty to guard you wherever you went, but I told them it was superfluous here. This house is already protected by the strongest magic there is, Dumbledore has seen to that." He put an arm around Draco. "How are you feeling, Drakie baby? You look perkier than last I saw you."

"I'm fine," Draco said sulkily, "but I'm bored."

"Bored? I thought you brought loads of stuff from home to keep you busy."

"Yeah, I did, but nobody wants to play with me. It's no fun to play Exploding Snap all by yourself..."

"I'll play a game with you before I leave, all right? The others can watch and see for themselves that it's not dangerous, then maybe they'll play with you next time."

Draco sighed. "Oh, all right." For some reason he did not want Harry there right then. Harry had dumped him off there, Harry was to blame for his boredom and feeling of being stranded, therefore he did not want Harry to make him happy and forget that he had to blame Harry for it. Stupid, but that's how he felt.

Harry left twenty minutes later – said he had urgent business to take care of – and Draco resorted to watching films, soaps, game shows, sports, and cartoons on TV. At first he was utterly unimpressed by it, but after a while he found himself all caught up in it. A few days later he would not miss a single episode of 'Days of Our Lives' – and that was quite bad... quite bad, indeed...

* * *

"How was he?" Piper asked worriedly as Harry returned from the Dursleys.

"He seemed a bit angry with me for just leaving him there like that," Harry replied gloomily, heavy at heart with guilt. "I'm concerned that six weeks at my relatives' house will make him hate me again, and I honestly don't know if he'll forgive me this time."

Piper laughed. "You're overreacting!" she said with conviction. "Draco can twist everything around to his advantage – he'll make use of his six weeks in Surrey, believe me."

So he simply had to take her word for it. But still he was anxious. Sure, they had grown up together, sister and brother, but she did not know Draco the way Harry knew him. She thought she did, obviously, but she was wrong. She did not know him at all.

The creating a new and stronger magical forcefield around the Manor took great amounts of effort and patience – and it took time. Since there were only three of them – Harry, Piper, and Yousuke – the shield of repelling spells and other forms of protection magic were very slowly coming along. They worked night and day to get it ready before Draco returned home with the new baby and had no time for anything else. It would have been much easier and much quicker if they'd had more help, but Blaise was still missing, Ron and Jonathan had a wedding to plan, and Yousuke's younger sister, Magami, was a Squib.

At first, Harry had been dreading working together with Piper and her hyper husband, but it actually turned out to be a smoothly running co-operation. For once, Piper did not joke around and try new spells she had just invented, but stuck to the old, tried ones. And Yousuke, always the courteous one, worked harder and more efficiently than Harry would have thought possible for any human being. He guessed it was because of his Japanese heritage – the traditions, the culture, the strive...

But it still was not running fast enough. After a month's hard work, they still had plenty to do, and Draco was due in only fifteen days. What was worse was, beside that one visit during Draco's fourth day at Privet Drive, he had not been able to keep his promise to come visit him once a week. Only one visit in four whole weeks. Draco ought to be furious with him.

When there was only twelve days to go, it finally looked as if they were nearing completion of the forcefield, so Harry decided it was safe enough to pay Draco a visit. His stomach churning with anxiety, he Apparated to Little Winging. Drawing a deep sigh for comfort, he rang the doorbell at the Dursleys.

Uncle Vernon opened the door. When he saw Harry on the doorstep, he scowled and stepped aside. "It's about time you show up," he muttered, and began to walk back to the parlour.

Harry frowned. "Why? Has he given you any trouble?" He felt as if he was talking about James and not Draco; his choice of words suited a small child better rather than a grown, pregnant man.

Uncle Vernon did not stop when he answered: "No, he's actually been quite good, but I'm getting tired at seeing him just sitting there... could get more useful..."

Harry wondered what he meant by "just sitting there" – he had not gone all catatonic, had he?

But instead of uttering his concerns, he snorted and said, "Surely you're not expecting someone who's nine months pregnant to do chores around the house?"

Uncle Vernon swirled around, his face a purplish red with semi-suppressed anger. "No, of course I'm not! But it's just that... Before you came here with him, Dudley was doing just fine with his program, he was excercising and eating right, but since your... _boyfriend_... came here, he's been ditching his program altogether!"

That was a total surprise to Harry. Draco having an influence on Dudley? Was that even possible? The only reason Harry could see for a deteriorating condition of his cousin was if Draco had _scared him _into fat-and-sugar indulgences. But when he walked into the Dursleys' small living room, he understood what Uncle Vernon meant.

Stunned, he stopped dead a few steps inside the door.

Draco and Dudley were sitting in front of the TV, both happily staring at the screen with huge, fascinated eyes and mouths hanging open. Now and then they commented on the scenes in the soap they were watching and laughed in a quite friendly manner. They actually seemed to enjoy each other's company very much.

Harry walked up to Draco and stood at his side, so as not to block the TV. "Hey, baby," he said, and forced a smile.

There was no reaction whatsoever from the blonde.

Harry frowned. "Hello? Somebody home in there?"

Still no reaction.

He hit Draco on the head and said, "Draco, excuse me, I'm here now!"

The blonde blinked stupidly a few times and looked up. Then his face lit up, and he stretched out his arms in warm welcome, obviously too big to be able to stand up and greet him. "Harry!" he exclaimed happily. "I've missed you! How's the shield coming?"

"It's fine," Harry said, and squeezed down beside the blonde. He immediately received a hug so hard he lost his wind. Feeling a bit awkward, he carefully edged Draco away. "Er... that's enough, thank you. So... how are you?"

"Oh, I'm great! Never been better! We've been watching loads of great shows and films and stuff, and I've become totally oblivious of all the tiring symptoms of pregnancy! Isn't it great?"

If he heard Draco say 'great' once more, he would puke. "Looks to me as if you've become oblivious of everything," he pointed out in a disliking tone.

"No, no, no, you're overreacting," Draco objected half-heartedly, because he had already turned his attention back to the TV.

Harry gazed at the soap on the TV. It seemed like utter shit at first glance, but Draco was apparently hooked on it. He hesitated for a while. Then he sighed. "All right, if watching the goggle box makes you happy, then please, keep watching. At least it takes your mind off everything else, and it keeps you busy until your scheduled delivery. But don't let it become an addiction, all right?"

"Huh?" Draco mumbled.

Harry sighed again. "Never mind. Look, I need to get back. Take care of yourself, all right?" He kissed the top of the blonde's head and got up from the couch.

"Yeah, send my love to James, will you?"

"He's gone missing again."

"Oh. Send him an owl, then."

Harry shook his head in resignation. That blonde was just something. As he prepared to leave, he noticed that Uncle Vernon looked as if he wanted a word. He went over to him.

"Look... is there many days left now?"

"Twelve."

"And once he's... had his baby... he will be out of here?" he prodded.

"Well, he might stay another few days, just to get some rest. It's a shorter journey here from London than it is back to the Manor," Harry informed in a casual, but stiff way.

Uncle Vernon nodded. "I guess it's all right." He was quiet for a while. Then he looked at Harry in a whole new way – almost as if he saw him for the first time. "Bringing him here was actually a good idea. I've never seen Dudders this happy before. Thank you."

Harry raised both eyebrows in astonishment. Uncle Vernon had _never_ thanked him for _anything_ before! Feeling more awkward now than ever, and blushing with embarrassment, he cleared his throat and muttered a "You're welcome" before leaving Privet Drive.

He'd never thought that Draco's presence in Little Winging would actually be positive.

* * *

The potion was ready. Finally, after more than two months of sneaking around trying to hide his other identity from Harry, the potion was ready.

He used something called The Feather Spell – Layato Temporia – to make his enormous belly feather light, which enabled him to move around with the ease of a fit, well-excercised man. When he was sure that the Dursleys were all busy and would not disturb him, he lied and said he needed to lie down a bit. He told them he'd be in his room – Potter's old room, apparently – napping. But as soon as the door had closed behind him, he Disapparated.

He Apparated just outside the tapestry of his father in the south wing on the second floor. He need not worry about getting caught, because no-one else currently taking up residence at the Manor knew about the room hidden behind it. With a cold sneer on his face, he tapped the second button from the top on his father's travelling cloak and waited. The portrait sprang alive, and his father smirked down at him with pride in his silver eyes. "Son, I can sense your evil energy – come to finish that bastard child of yours, have you? Good, good. You may pass."

The tapestry swung aside, and Draco entered the ladder room.

It was quite difficult to descend the ladder with his huge belly, but it was managable now that it was feather light. He just needed to mind his step. And soon he would be rid of the bloody thing and be back to normal again.

On his way to the Potion Chamber, he stopped by the smallest of the damp stone chambers to grant his so-called 'best friend' a quick greeting. "Hello, Blaise, hangin' all right?" he asked, and laughing viciously he continued down the stone tunnel.

Once drunk, the potion would begin to work immediately. But it needed three hours to kill off the foetus entirely since he had carried it full-term.

So, in three hours... three hours...

* * *

Harry passed through the parlour and accidentally cast a glance at the old grandfather clock standing in one corner. At first he did not register what it said, but as he prepared to step back outside he stopped dead and swirled back around. Blinked a few times.

It was not possible.

Ron had given him a brilliant idea the other day when Harry paid him and Jonathan a visit to help them pick out a wedding cake. The Weasleys had a special grandfather clock at the Burrow which showed the whereabouts of all nine family members at all times. Instead of numbers, the clock featured different sites – such as 'home', 'travelling', 'lost', and 'work'. Ron had suggested that Harry get a similar one to keep tabs on James when he disappeared.

"Might help you find him quicker," Ron had said.

And Harry had instantly liked the idea. He had picked up the clock only yesterday. Just as he had requested, it featured twelve different sites of his choice: 'Manor', 'Burrow', 'hospital', 'Ministry', 'lost', 'travelling', 'Hogwarts', 'Auror school', 'future', 'past', 'Privet Drive', and 'Ron's'.

The arm with Draco's name was currently on _Manor_.

"But that's impossible!" Harry protested aloud to himself. Thinking that he must be imagining things, he shut his eyes for two seconds and then opened them again.

Draco's name was now on _Privet Drive_.

And there it stayed.

Harry shook the confusion out of himself. He had imagined it, was all. Of course Draco could not have been at the Manor! He did not even have the strength to get up from the bloody couch!

But it still made him worried.

They were doing the finishing of the forcefield that day. Another few hours and it would be done, good as new. He had hardly worked on it for an hour when a loud whistle winded. It was time. Piper had set the whistle to go off both at the Dursleys and in every room of the Manor as well as the garden surrounding it to make sure they both heard it.

Harry immediately left for the Dursleys'. Draco had somehow managed to get up on his feet when he arrived and was waiting for him with excitedly flushed cheeks. He smiled happily when Harry put his arm around them and transported them both to St Mungo's. He was very surprised, and at the same time somewhat unnerved, by his relatives' jittery behaviour as they left, because it made him kind of awkward to think that there was a possibility they actually cared for his baby.

The midwives had prepared a room for them and were waiting impatiently in the waiting room. As they helped Draco down on a stretcher, they began to explain what they were going to do. "We've never had a man deliver a baby before, so we don't know exactly how to perform this," the head nurse told them. "But lately we've started to study Muggle medicine and Muggle methods in different fields, and we have a surgeon here who's become quite talented at caesarians..."

Draco blinked up at her in bewilderment. "Mu-Muggle methods? W-what do you mean? And what do you need a surgeon for? W-what's a caesarian?" he stuttered, fright burning in his pale eyes.

"It's a simple procedure, you do not need to be worried," the nurse promised with a casual smile. "I don't know exactly—"

"I know what it is," Harry said. "They mean they're gonna sedate you and open up your stomach to bring the baby out that way," he explained to Draco in as calm a voice as he could muster.

The blonde's eyes widened with terror. "Cut me open?! _Cut me open?!_ I'm not gonna bloody let them cut me _open_!"

The midwives exchanged knowing looks.

Before they could sedate Draco against his will, Harry said, "Maybe we should just call your sister. She's done this before." And, not at all to his surprise, Draco nodded vigorously.

So Piper were brought in to perform the delivery. She used the same complex spells as last, and the midwives watched in fascination as she magically made Draco's stomach liquid. It was just for her to stick her hands inside and carefully lift up the baby, as if her brother's belly was nothing but the still surface of a clear lake. As soon as she had transferred the baby over to one of the midwives, she made his stomach once again acquire substantial form. When that was done, she used a homemade incantation to deflate it and make it go back to its original non-pregnant state. He sure did not look as if he'd been fat just a second ago; he looked as if he'd spent the past nine months at the gym.

Which meant, he looked just like he'd always done.

Harry could not help but bend down and kiss him, happy to have his Dracums back to normal.

Piper gave a squeal. "Oooh, how incredibly cuuuute she is!" she exclaimed, and holding the tiny little creature they had created with their love for each other, she smiled at Draco. "You've just had a beautiful little daughter, Drakie-poops! You've given birth to a beautiful, healthy little baby girl!"

Both Harry and Draco were taken aback by those news.

"A _what_?!" Draco shrieked, as if the prospect of raising a girl was the worst punishment in the world.

"A baby girl! Look!" Piper carefully put her down into Draco's arms.

Draco looked down at her with wonder. Harry felt the same way. A daughter. "But... but I thought... Joseph?" the blonde said in lack of understanding.

"Yeah, I thought so too," Harry said. "Maybe he isn't our son, then."

They were silent for a while, watching the baby girl with love and affection.

"So, what should we call her, then?" Draco asked. "We can't exactly call her Joseph..."

Harry laughed. "No, I guess not. But how about Josephine? That's close enough."

"Yeah. I like that. Josephine. Joz."

"Joss?"

"With a Z," Draco confirmed. "Sounds like a decent nickname, doesn't it?"

"Gee, she's only three minutes old and you've already given her a nickname!" Harry joked, and they both laughed.

Josephine yawned and went to sleep.

* * *

It was the weirdest wedding any of them had ever been to. The ceremony was conducted at the Ministry of Magic in a special hall presented by the Department of Legal Unions and Break-ups. An altar-like stage took up half the room, elevated three feet above the rest, and in the middle of the stage stood Ron and Jonathan together with the Head of the Department of Legal Unions and Break-ups (the only person with the authority to unite magical creatures in marriage), Dumbledore (their head witness; all magical creatures needed to have a head witness sign a special form, because their family members and others present would not do), best man Harry and brides maid Jessica (Jonathan's older sister), and the Minister for Magic himself. Of course there was not exactly a bride, but they still had the right to a brides maid.

On both sides of the stage, facing the couple, were chairs provided for the family members of both spouces. On the right was Jonathan's family (whom he had successfully told about his wizard fiancé), and on the left side was Ron's with Mrs Weasley and Ginny up front. They were both crying. Mr Weasley, on the other hand, was more interested in the Muggles across the stage from him than he was in the actual ceremony. On the floor in front of the stage, the rest of the guests were sitting in comfortable chairs. Draco sat on the front row together with two-year-old James and two months old Joz, a happy smile on his face. Several of their old classmates from Hogwarts were present, all of them surprised that Ron was marrying a bloke, but all of them supportive.

The only person missing was Bill, the Weasley least expected to care whether his brother married a girl or a bloke. One would think that someone who sported a pierced ear, long hair in a ponytail, and a kick-arse attitude of a typical youth would be okay with it – but no. Ron was a bit hurt that he had not even answered the invitation, but he would not let it spoil the happiest day of his life.

Just when the ceremony was about to start, the great doors to the hall were flung open and Bill came running in. Stopping ten feet from the stage, he bent over with his hands on his thighs and panted wheezingly. Then he looked up with an apologetic smile. "Did I miss anything?"

Ron simply smiled back and shook his head.

With everyone finally present, the ceremony could begin.

Harry heard Draco snivel behind him when Ron and Jonathan said "I do" to each other, and he felt close to tears of joy himself. As soon as they had exchanged the traditional wizard rings the dance began and the stage disappeared. The chairs were exchanged for two long tables along the walls of the room with various snacks and drinks. The newlyweds swept over the floor, Ron in his new dress robes and Jonathan in a traditional Muggle tux, and soon other couples dressed in their finest dress robes – or Muggle wear – joined them on the dance floor. Draco even managed to talk Harry into dancing with him. He felt rather awkward at first, but soon he forgot the people around them and the world shrank to just him and Draco.

At the other end of the room, Piper had trouble controlling James, whom currently had some sort of fit of hyperactive energy and overjoy.

"Isn't it lovely?" Draco wondered.

"Yeah..."

The feeling lasted even long after they'd gotten back home and were sitting together in the parlour. Energised by their best friend's happiness, they got up from the couch and Harry started to chase Draco around the bottom floor of the Manor. The blonde was laughing and gave a small shriek each time Harry came close to catching him. When he finally did, Draco laughed harder than he had ever laughed before, and squeezed his eyes tight shut. They fell to the floor in a giggling heap, the raven-haired boy on top. As he looked down into the blonde's beautiful pale face, Harry felt happier than he'd ever felt, and before he could stop himself the words he had had on his tongue all day – and pretty much every day for the past six months without even realising it himself – escaped from his mouth in a loving half-giggling smile. "Marry me."

For a moment the blonde just kept laughing, thinking that this must be part of the game, but when he realised that Harry was serious he abruptly stopped. "What?"

Harry's smile broadened. "Marry me."

And then something very unexpected happened. The blonde's pale face went paler than palest; all blood drained from his features and he seemed on the verge of fainting. With trembling lips and dead-scared silver eyes, he whispered: "No."

_(To be continued...)_

"Boku o michibiku kasuka-na shiruetto..."

* * *

**_Managed to get another one out before going to bed. Yaaaay! X3 And the next chapter will mark the end of the "And so the tables were turned" part of this series, and another part will begin. ;)_**

**_It makes me so happy that so many people are adding this story to their Story Alert lists and/or Favorite Stories list! Thank you so much! :D And I also want to say a big thank you to everyone who has sent me reviews! Arigatou!  
Love, Piper_**


	42. And so the tables were turned, part 16

**Rating:** PG-17

**Pairing:** H/D and R/J

**Disclaimer:** All the characters belong to J.K. Rowling except for my 'babies' Piper, Tom/James, Joz, Timothy, Jonathan Kelly, The Other/Jonas + Magami, Yousuke and Shizuka Sakanoue.

**Disclaimer II:** The nickname "Dracums" belongs to Golden

**A/N:** There is no such thing as "morpho-medicine", but it sounds cool, though. ;)

* * *

**And so the tables were turned... (16)**

Harry felt as if his heart stopped and froze to ice at that moment, and a terrible pain ran across his chest.

The one word echoed through his dumbstruck mind. _No, no, no, no, no..._

He had been so certain that Draco would throw himself around his neck and yell "Yes, yes, yes!" that he had been totally unprepared for this. During the past two or three months, Draco had given him small hints that he indeed _wanted_ to marry Harry – that he _wanted_ Harry to propose – despite all his scornful snorts and bitter comments. Even though he claimed not to need marriage to be happy, Harry could see in his eyes that he _wanted_ it. And he wanted it bad.

So why say no?

The blonde must have seen the shock and the hurt in his face, because tears began to stream down his face. He was silently crying, and his grey eyes apologised for having hurt Harry. Slowly getting up from the floor, backing away from him, he squealed, "I can't. I'm sorry, but I can't."

Heart pounding savagely and head spinning dizzyingly, Harry got to his feet on unsteady legs and stumbled after Draco. "What do you mean 'you can't'?" he asked exasperatedly. "How can you just go out and say you can't?! I love you and you love me... what is the bloody problem?!"

The blonde only cried more violently, and a wretched sob escaped him. "I just can't, Harry – I'll hurt you."

Harry raised his eyebrows in astonishment. "Hurt me? How could you ever _hurt_ me?"

Draco sank down on the couch. He was shivering so bad his teeth were clattering against one another. "I-I'll hurt you... don't you see? I'm... _doing_ things... I don't have any control over myself... I can't marry you, Harry, I want to, I want to so bad, but I just can't because I'll hurt you and then I'll lose you and then I won't have you at all." He was rambling, and Harry could sense just as well as see the panic rise inside of him. Beautiful, glimmering silver eyes focused on Harry. "I'm losing time," he whispered in terror.

Harry blinked. "What? Losing time? What d'you mean?"

He sat down next to Draco and cooed him into leaning his head against his shoulder.

Sobbing uncontrollably, Draco finally told him what had bothered him for the past six months or so. Harry listened with growing fear and anxiety as the blonde told him all about the blackouts – his lost time. "And I... I think I've done loads of things... bad things... _really_ bad things...," Draco whimpered. "I... I think you were right... I think I _did_ have something to do with Slutty's death... and the night we were invited to the Weasleys... I lost forty-five bloody minutes that night, Harry. I remember congratulating Ron after Jonathan's proposal... and then it's blank. All of a sudden I was standing in the library, and I have no idea how I got there or why. And what is worth is... I think I'm responsible for Blaise's disappearance."

Harry pressed him closer. Shut his eyes. He could not tell Draco that he need not worry, because he had already dreaded this. He'd already come to the conclusion that something was wrong with Draco, that something significant had changed about him some time ago. And he was afraid that Draco was right in thinking that he was responsible for Blaise's disappearance. But if that was correct... if he really _was_ 'losing time'... did that mean that he had somehow developed a second personality?

The past six months the blonde had seemed really weird from time to time, and there had been a strange, cruel shine to his eyes. Almost as if...

Then it hit him. A picture of Malfoy Piper's vicious grin flashed before his inner eye. Piper had somehow managed to bring out her Malfoy self with a spell – could the same thing have happened to Draco? Only his "Malfoy self" resided within him rather than being a separate person.

And if that was true... if Draco's old self was surfacing _again_

... they needed to take drastic measures to get him out of the blonde – for good. Piper was the only one capable of doing that.

Draco took a firmer grip of Harry's neck. "W-why aren't you saying anything?" he wondered worriedly. "Are you... Are you mad at me?"

Harry forced himself to laugh. "No, I'm not mad at you. If you're not ready to get married – that's fine. Really. But this business about the blackouts... don't you think that's a bit farfetched?"

He could sense the blonde's bewilderment. He snivelled loudly. "What do you mean?"

"Well, if you don't want to you should just tell me so instead of making up some lame excuse." God, he hated himself for doing this. But if Draco's old self _did_ surface from time to time, it could be more than possible that the wrong Draco became aware of Harry's plan to keep a close watch on him around the clock from now on. He needed proof that his theory was correct, which meant that Draco's 'other half' could know nothing about it.

The blonde stiffened. "You... you think I'm just making it up?" he breathed in disbelief.

"To be honest I don't know what to think, Dracums. Honestly."

The blonde was silent for a long, long while. Then he said: "Do you know what I did yesterday, Harry?"

Harry was taken aback. He had expected Draco to become angry with him. "Yesterday? No. I was at school all day yesterday, you know, taking my tests..."

Draco straightened up and looked him right into the eyes. He had a cold determination on his face. "I can't remember what I did yesterday, Harry. Not a thing. I went up in the morning and went out to the bathroom, but then... nothing. Not until I found myself back in our bedroom pulling on my pyjama bottoms. Now, let's hear you explain _that_ based on your belief that I'm only making it up."

Harry started. "You... you don't remember anything?"

"No. Nothing. Not all day. I lost fourteen hours yesterday, Harry. _Fourteen hours_. They're getting longer. Soon I won't remember anything at all. I might not even be _me_ anymore. I might not even be me."

* * *

Jonathan was massaging his shoulders and back in a very kinky fashion, and he loved it. His big hands ran over his hot, tense skin with experience, sending pleasant shivers through his body. They did not say anything, because they did not need to; words were unnecessary, superfluous.

Ron rose slightly, moaning encouragingly as if to tell him to go on, and the other man – his husband! – moved down to his lower back, taking all the tension out of his muscles. Then he bent down low and started to kiss Ron on the back. The redhead chuckled approvingly. Oooh, yeah... that was good... really good... He purred like a cat when Jonathan painted geometrical figures on his back with his tongue. Oooh, it was good to be married...

BRRRRIIIIIIIIIIINNNGGG!!

Ron gave a start and almost fell out of the bed.

The alarm had gone off. Jonathan's stupid, annoying Muggle alarm with a stupid, annoying Muggle ring tone.

The brunette hit the button on the alarm without lifting his head off the pillow; then he went back to sleep.

"It was just a _dreeeaaam_?!" Ron moaned in exasperation, and tugged at his red hair. "But it was _so good_..." He pouted in childish protest.

Jonathan turned around and looked at him with one half-open eye. "What was just a dream?" he muttered with a bloody sexy I-just-woke-up-hoarse voice.

"You were licking my back," Ron informed him, "and now your bloody alarm woke me up. I never got the rest of my massage. I blame you."

Jonathan chuckled sleepily. "In my dream I was going down on you," he said with amusement.

Ron raised his eyebrows in bafflement. "You dream of pleasuring _me_?" he asked, stunned. "Don't you dream that I pleasure _you_?"

"No."

"Not ever?"

"No."

"But why not?"

"Because that's no fun! It's much more fun to see your screwed-up sex face."

Ron burst out laughing. "I have a sex face?!"

"Yeah. You always make the same face when we make love. It's cute."

Feeling bold and mischievous, Ron snuggled up closer. "Wanna see it now?" he asked teasingly.

"Oooh, I'd love to, thanks," Jonathan joked, and pressed his lips to Ron's. He was still only half awake and very slow in his movements, but that was just sweet.

Ron pressed ever closer, basking in the warmth of Jonathan's body, moaned in delight when being touched with lazy hands. As they kissed he seemed to come awake, though, and intent on living out both their dreams he set about covering Ron's chest and belly with dry kisses. But when he prepared to orally please him, Ron firmly shook his head. "No. Come inside me instead. I want you to be there with me."

Jonathan shrugged and did as he was told. The moment they were joined everything else around them faded away – it was as if they were floating in a fluffy blur of white-hot nothing. And it was lovely... just lovely...

* * *

He did not know how, but somehow Harry managed to convince Draco that he believed him and still be sceptic and indifferent about it. Although he would not promise to help Draco find out what he did during these 'blackouts', the blonde seemed quite content. Maybe just telling someone about it had been enough to calm his tumultuous soul. Harry was glad that he became calmer, but he felt awful for putting up such an act. He wanted to tell Draco about his plans to 'spy' on him, but what if the wrong Draco intercepted the message? That could have dire consequences.

He told Draco he'd be in the school library reading up on different cases in which Aurors had failed to convict the culprits they had caught in preparation for his next test, but instead he stayed home and out of sight, watching the blonde from a safe distance beneath his Invisibility Cloak.

It felt shady and corny, not to mention shameful and distrustful, but he had to do it. For Draco's sake. For their family's sake. They could not allow the blackouts to go on.

When the blonde was in the bath he went to the Sakanoues' wing. To be allowed to stay at the Manor, Piper had had to promise to her brother that she would seal off the west wing of the second floor entirely. Her family could live there if they kept away from Draco's part of the house. Harry thought it was awfully silly of the blonde, because Piper and Yousuke had only been given twenty rooms out of _one hundred and five_! But Piper was a good sister and never claimed to have been discriminated for being blonde and stupid.

And Harry kind of saw why.

He urgently knocked on the door that said _PIPER AND YO-WO-WO-KUN_ beneath a series of complex signs that meant nothing to Harry. But he guessed it was their names written in Japanese and some sort of greeting.

Yousuke opened the door and lit up at the sight of him. "Ah! Harii-kun! Come in, come in! We having tea party! You will join, yes?"

Harry squirmed uncomfortably. "Er... no, sorry, I'm busy. I just needed a word with Piper..."

"Ah! Saatanrii, saatanrii! Do walk in! Me will get." He bowed and backed out of the little room that had been remodelled as an entrance hall.

Harry shook his head in amused resignation. Yousuke still did not know how to pronounce the word 'Certainly' – he still pronounced it the Japanese way: 'Saatanrii.'

Piper bounced into the hall seconds later, an enormous smile on her maked-up lips. "Harryyyy!" she exclaimed with her arms outstretched, ready to hug the crap out of him.

Harry backed away in fright. "Sssch! Not so loud! I'm not supposed to be here!" he reproached.

She blinked in bewilderment. "Whatchu mean?"

"I told Draco I'd be at the library at Auror School all day," Harry said, and explained everything to her. She listened intently without interrupting, and when he asked her if she'd make the potion she simply nodded solemnly.

"I'll start right away," she promised. "An anti-Malfoy potion, you say? That ought to be easy enough. I already have a few different basic formulae to start from. It'll be ready in a jiff."

Harry frowned suspiciously. "And exactly how long is a 'jiff'?" he prodded.

"Silly! A jiff is a jiff! Jiffy-jiff! That means it'll be ready right away! Haven't you read your dictionaries properly, Mr Potter?"

"Shut up. I don't like you when you're mocking and condescending."

Piper laughed. "Do you _ever_ like me, Harry?"

"You know... you have a point there. Just concoct that potion quickly, all right? I have a feeling we don't have much time. He's already losing whole days."

Harry stealed back up the stairs to the third floor and soundlessly crept up to the bathroom door, which was now ajar. He stopped just outside the foot-wide opening and listened intently.

Which Draco was in the bathroom?

Something clattered in there. "Shit." He could not see the blonde, but he guessed that he'd accidentally hurt himself in some way and dropped whatever he had been holding.

Harry edged closer.

Someone tutted. "That was real clumsy of you," Draco's voice said, but judging from the childish tone it was probably the magical mirror talking back at him.

"Shut up!" Draco hissed. "I fucking _hate_ magical mirrors. Can't you ever just keep your _mouth_ shut?!"

"No," the mirror said in a mocking tone.

A bang. Draco had thrown something at the mirror.

"Fuck." There was a five seconds long silence. "It didn't work. She's still alive, and she's showing no sign of the Masamadie. Why didn't it work?"

"You only gave it one hour out of three to work, silly," the mirror pointed out shrewdly.

"Didn't I tell you to shut up?! It's not my fault it didn't get enough time to work. That bloody Potter came to pick me up for delivery."

There was no doubt which Draco it was in there. His Dracums would never call him Potter, and certainly not in that disgusted, scornful, sarcastic tone.

But what was he talking about? What was a masamadie?

It shocked him that this second personality of Draco's had tried to kill Joz while she was still inside him. Thank God he had not succeeded!

"Fuck. Now I have to kill six people instead of five. How the Hell am I gonna pull _that_ off without any of them raising suspicion against me? Blaise was hard enough."

Harry stumbled backwards in shock. No. It could not be. It was not true. He had not heard him say that. Suddenly he felt a strong need to get away from the blonde and tried to back up the hallway, but his foot caught on the rim of the Invisibility Cloak and he fell. He landed on the floor with a thud.

"Who's there?" came the blonde's voice from inside the bathroom.

Harry noticed that his right leg was protruding from beneath the Cloak, and mouthing a curse he hurried to pull it back inside the oily silver fabric. Draco appeared in the doorway only a fraction of a second later. He peered out into the hall with knitted eyebrows, and his grey eyes were cold and vicious. Harry tried his best not to make a single sound. His heart was pounding in his chest and his breathing was fast and shallow. Fear had frozen him. They were only three feet from each other. If the blonde decided to go out and search the corridor he would step right on Harry, and Harry would not be able to move away fast enough.

Evidently he decided that he had only imagined the sound, because he shrugged and walked back inside the bathroom.

Harry hurried up to his feet again and moved some thirty feet up the hallway, coming to a rest outside the nursery. He peered around the corner. James was not there. Thank God. He did not want to think about what could have happened if the blonde had found the boy in his current state of mind. And Joz. Where was Joz? Asleep in her cradle?

_Oh my God...,_ he thought, and he felt something sharp stab his heart.

The blonde was emerging from the bathroom, and with swift strides he stalked past Harry with his black cloak billowing in his wake. He took the stairs at a run. Harry only hesitated a second before following him as close behind as he dared. He was quite surprised when Draco went left and turned into the south wing. Neither of them ever went to the south wing because there was nothing there. Draco had said so only months after they decided to stay at the Manor rather than move to an apartment in London. And that was more than three years ago. Why would he want to go to the south wing now?

The blonde came to a stop in front of a huge tapestry resembling Lucius Malfoy.

Harry stared at it in astonishment. Draco had never told him there was a tapestry of his father hanging in a corridor. Why would he keep something as trivial as that from him?

He watched the blonde take out his wand and firmly tap the second button from the top on his father's deep green travelling cloak. In an instant, the tapestry came alive. "Welcome back, son," Lucius said with a cold sneer. The tapestry swung aside and revealed a hidden room that Harry had had no idea existed. He glimpsed what looked like a ladder in there – a ladder going down. As soon as he had gone inside, the tapestry swung back into place.

Harry waited for a few minutes, hesitating. Should he follow him? Or was it too dangerous? There was no telling what the blonde might do if he discovered that he was being followed, and Harry certainly did not want to have to fight him. He did not want to hurt Draco.

Eventually he decided to trust his instincts and go on. He stepped up to the tapestry and took out his own wand. He tapped the button just like Draco had done.

"Ah... Mr Potter. Finally learnt of the secret passageway, have you?" Lucius drawled, delighted.

Harry jerked. "You can see me?" he said, and immediately felt a blush of embarrassment. He had just asked a bloody tapestry if it could see him!

Lucius laughed demonically. "Why, of course I can, Mr Potter. Did you take me for a fool? I see everything. And let me tell you, you won't be able to fool my son either. He'll outwit you. All too easily."

Harry ignored him and stepped inside the room. The ladder he had glimpsed was the only item in the room. Silently sneaking up to it, he tried to see if Draco was still climbing down it. It appeared to be empty down there, so he took a deep breath and began his descent.

He stared dumbstruck at the stone tunnel and the old dungeons at the bottom of the ladder. There seemed to be just as many rooms and chambers beneath the house as the ones he was aware of _inside _the house! Wondering where the blonde had gone, he peered up and down the tunnel. Small torches were burning on the walls, but the light in the tunnel was dim and did not make much out. Listening to a little voice inside himself, he went right and followed the tunnel as fast as he dared, careful not to make any sounds that might travel up to the blonde.

As he passed one of the smallest chambers, he detected an odd shape in his periphery and swirled around. His heart seemed to stop when he came face to face with the lost Blaise at last. Pain and sorrow in his heart now, he had to admit to himself that what he had heard the blonde say upstairs was right. No longer worried that the blonde would hear him, he walked up to the boy hanging on the wall in the chamber, tears silently streaming down his cheeks. Blaise was dead. No doubt about it. He had been pinned to the wall with three-inch-thick metal poles in wrists, ankles, crotch, and neck – a mockery of the Muggles' crucifix. His eyes had been torn out. His gut cut open. Intestines were hanging out of him, lightly touching the cold, damp stone floor.

Harry fell to his knees. "No," he whispered. "No..." This was sick. Beyond sick. What had Draco been turned into?

He remembered the fear on the blonde's face when he had uttered his worst fears...

_"I think I'm responsible for Blaise's disappearance."_

He had said nothing about the possibility that he might have killed him, but now Harry understood that Draco had feared just that. That he had killed his best friend _again_. But this time it had been in cold blood – this time it had been in a psychotic rage.

Shaken by his discovery, he hardly noticed when the blonde passed him out in the tunnel on his way back to the ladder. Only five minutes later did he realise that he was alone down there.

And Draco had come from the right, the direction in which he had been going. He therefore came to the conclusion that he could trust his instincts and set out again. He followed the tunnel to the very end and was utterly surprised by his discovery. This was the largest chamber he had seen yet, and it sported several long wooden tables and everything you might need to concoct the darkest of potions.

Suddenly he recalled what Blaise had said to him last he'd seen him. _"Draco, I saw Harry emerge from the Potion Chamber. Did you know that he knew about it?"_ Back then, Harry had not reflected much over Zabini's choice of words, but now the truth hit him with the force of a sledge hammer.

Blaise had seen something he was not supposed to see, and the other Draco had got rid of him to cover up his tracks. And what he had seen must be inside this chamber.

Harry walked up to one of the tables. There was a half-empty cauldron standing on it, and it looked recently used. One sniff of the potion inside of it told him that it was something you should not drink if you wanted to see the next full moon. Could this be the masamadie that Draco had been talking about? Yes, there was a ripped-out page from an old book on the table featuring the ingredients for and instructions how to make a potion called Masamadie. But it was written in latin, so Harry did not understand a word of it. Without hesitation he pocketed the yellowed parchment, and next he took a small bottle from a shelf behind him and poured a sample of the Masamadie inside it with the intention of showing them both to Professor Snape. If anyone knew what the effects of that potion might be, it was Snape.

Then he left the Potion Chamber and intended never to go back. The place gave him the creeps.

He stopped at the chamber holding Blaise's dead body again to quietly pay his respects to his dead friend before ascending the stairs and climbing out of the tapestry again.

* * *

Cho came for another unexpected visit to the Manor that afternoon, but she did not intend to actually announce her presence. No, she hoped to be able to "work her magic" without getting seen by anyone. She used the fireplace in the den, because she knew that the lads seldom used it themselves. And yes, the little room was deserted. She sneaked up to the parlour archway and peered inside to make sure that no-one was there.

She could not see anyone. Giggling girlishly to herself she went inside and was just about to continue out into the hallway when she heard a loud sigh behind herself.

Frightened, she swirled around.

Draco was fast asleep on the couch.

"Perfect!" she said to herself and clapped her hands together in childish delight. Since the Malfoy-potion was not working fast and efficiently enough, she wanted to try something else. And this time it was sure to break them apart... for ever.

* * *

"Potion's ready!"

Piper came running down the stairs with a test-tube of steaming lilac-blue-black liquid that bubbled slightly on the surface. It had only taken her three hours to concoct it, and Harry was very glad to see her then. He took the test-tube and held it up to the light. "Does this taste bad?" he asked.

Piper blinked at him. "No. Why? You're not the one who's going to drink it."

"No, and that is precisely the problem. Draco would never drink anything you have made, and if he detected even the slightest trace of a bitter taste in the tea I'm going to bring him he would get suspicious. And he needs to drink the whole thing in order for it to work, doesn't he?"

"Yeees..."

"That's why I needed to know about the taste. Now, if you excuse me..."

He went out to the kitchen and made a kettle of tea for them. When it was ready he took the kettle off the fire and poured three cups, because Piper would probably want to stick around and watch the results of her potion. If his face turned purple for a second after he drank it, it meant that the potion had worked and that he'd been successfully stripped of his second personality.

He brought the tea on a tray, which he carefully put down on the coffee table in front of Draco. Then he gently shook him awake. "Hey, baby," he said with a faint smile, because as soon as the blonde had opened his eyes he knew that this was his Draco, not the other. "Sleep well?"

The blonde rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. "Harry?" he said in surprise. "You're home already? I thought you were going to study all day..."

"Yeah, so I thought," Harry lied with ease, "but Madam Bookworm, the librarian, kicked me out at two. Said they were doing some sort of inventory this afternoon..."

"Oh." Draco sat up. He seemed somewhat confused. Harry guessed that he wondered how he had wound up on the couch. Then he spotted the tray. "Oh, you made me tea? That is so sweet... Thank you."

Harry could not believe that anyone would do something so vicious and malicious to this wonderful, compassionate young man. Who the Hell would turn him into such a monster?

_When I find him...,_ Harry thought and unconsciously clenched his hands.

Draco took a sip of his tea. "Oh, that is delicious," he said and took another sip. "New flavour?"

"Er... yeah. I think so. I kind of was in a hurry last I went to Diagon Alley, so I just picked something."

"It's lovely," the blonde said and swallowed the rest in three deep swigs. "Man, I didn't realise I was that thirsty? What have I been up to all morning to make me so thirsty?" He chuckled stiffly, trying to make his question sound more casual than it was.

When he put the cup down he burped and made a wry face. For a second his face flashed a dark purple, and Harry's heart skipped a beat in relief. "It worked!" he exclaimed in overjoy and threw himself around the blonde's neck.

Then he told Draco about everything. The part about finding Blaise was hardest, but he knew he had to tell him sooner or later. Together with the news of the mysterious Masamadie potion, Blaise's (second) death made Draco extremely depressed and plagued by guilt. Harry tried his best to make him see that it was not his fault, but the blonde would not listen. He shut himself in an inner room of pain again.

Two hours later Harry went to see Professor Snape at Hogwarts. He Apparated to Hogsmeade and walked up to the castle from there. Once he stood outside Snape's office in the dungeons, he hesitated. But then he knocked on the door.

"Come in," the harsh voice said from inside the office.

Harry opened the door and stepped inside. Shut it behind himself.

Snape seemed utterly surprised to see him, but soon his usual sneer returned to his sallow face. "To what do I owe the honour?" he asked without rising from his desk.

Harry took a seat opposite him. "I need a favour," he said very reluctantly.

The sneer on Snape's face deepened. "A favour, you say? Famous, arrogant, do-it-yourself Potter wants a favour?"

"Yes, and it is very important that you don't let our mutual hatred cloud your vision," Harry warned unpleasantly. He turned out his pocket and gave his old professor the small bottle of Masamadie potion and the ripped out page with the instructions. "Do you recognise this?" he asked solemnly.

Snape inspected the yellowed parchment closely. A note of anxiety came to his jet black eyes. When he looked up at Harry he seemed to have forgotten all about their differences. "Where did you find this?" he demanded.

Harry did not like the urgency in his drawling voice. Cold shivers travelling down his spine, he told Snape all about the Potion Chamber and Draco's blackouts. The professor listened intensely with steadily growing concern. When Harry fell silent he urged him to give him the bottle.

He looked at it with dread. "This is a highly deadly potion, Potter," he said, and sounded almost fascinated. "But only for foetuses, of course..."

Harry knitted his brows. "Foetuses? You mean..."

"That is exactly what I mean," Snape said, and fixated Harry's gaze with his own. "The Masamadie potion kills the foetus without hurting the mother – or, in Draco's case, the father. But it needs three hours inside the body to work properly."

"Yeah, I heard the other Draco mentioning something about three hours... But the bathroom mirror said he'd only given it one hour."

A muscle twitched near Snape's left eye. "The bathroom mirror?" he echoed sceptically.

"He was having a conversation with his reflection in the magical mirror," Harry explained.

"I see..." The professor studied the potion in the little bottle. "I will need to examine this further. I will also need a blood sample from the baby to determine what the potion might have done to her."

Harry rose from the chair.

"Oh, and Potter," Snape said as he was about to shut the door behind himself again. "You need to be prepared for bad news. The Masamadie is a very strong potion, and it has probably caused major damage to your daughter's DNA. There is a chance that the damage is minor since she wasn't subjected to the full power of the potion, of course, but don't get your hopes up, all right?"

Harry could not hide his astonishment at Snape's concern. "Sir... you _care_ for me, sir?"

An eerie smile curved the older man's lips. "Certainly, Potter. After all, you _are_ my nephew's partner."

"Ne... Nephew, sir?"

"Oh, haven't Draco told you? Lucius and I had the same father. We were half brothers."

What? Snotty, unpleasant, sallow-skinned Severus Snape a bastard son? That was actually quite funny and made the old snake seem less intimidating. He wondered why Draco never told him about that? It was hilarious.

But he did not get any chance to ask him about his amazing discovery, because when he found Draco in their bedroom he totally lost his thread. The blonde was standing in front of the full-length mirror next to the wardrobe and appeared to be pulling on a pair of black nylons.

Harry stopped and stared.

Draco froze in the middle of a movement as he spotted Harry in the doorway. He was half dressed in female clothing. Harry could not believe it. He was wearing a skirt for crying out loud!

"What the Hell are you doing?!" he asked indignantly.

The blonde blinked. Then he smiled pleasantly. "I'm playing house with the children," he told him. "I'm the mother, James is the father and Joz is the baby."

"You need to dress up as an old librarian for that?" Harry asked sceptically.

"I do not look like an old librarian!" Draco objected in offense. "I look cute!"

Harry snorted. "You look bloody ridiculous. Now take those off." He left the room and went downstairs to have some coffee. Man, something _always_ had to happen, did not it? Once they had straightened one thing up something else turned up and messed life up for them. Was not it enough that Joz was probably in mortal danger?

_At least he's bright and shining again_, Harry thought with a deep sigh.

A few hours later, when it was time to have dinner, though, Draco turned up dressed in an extremely tight, super-short and revealing red dress, and Harry noticed that he was even wearing fake breasts. With this he wore the same black nylons that Harry had seen him about to put on only a couple of hours earlier, red leather boots with high heels, a pearl necklace with matching pearl earrings _and_ make-up! To top it off he had styled his hair in a very feminine fashion. He smiled broadly at them all and waved foolishly. "Hiii!"

They gaped at him.

"Draco, what the fuck are you _doing_?!" Harry exclaimed. "_Why_ are you _wearing_ that?"

Not even Piper could find anything more suitable to say – and _that_ was to say something!

The blonde just smiled even broader and giggled girlishly. Then he clapped his hands together. "I have an announcement to make!" he informed them and gave them all expectant looks. "I am going to become a woman!" He squealed excitedly as if that was the most amazing thing in the world.

They just stared at him with goggling eyes.

"_What_?" Harry could hardly even get that _one_ word out of his mouth.

"Yeah! I'm gonna go through morpho-medicine tomorrow! I used my influence to move my name up to the top of the list, and I'm up at five PM! Isn't it wonderful?"

Suddenly Harry felt rage flowing through his veins. He swiftly rose from the dinner table and violently took Draco by the arm. Furthermore he forced him out of the room and up the stairs to their bedroom. There he magically tied him to the bed to make sure that he did not wander off anywhere. When he got back downstairs the others were watching him with wide eyes. Especially Magami, because she did not seem to understand what had happened at all. Maybe she had not even recognised Draco under all that make-up. Yousuke apparently tried to explain the incident to her.

Piper watched him intently as he approached the table.

"Make a potion," he demanded.

"Already onto it!" she promised and bounced up and away.

He sank down at the table and buried his face in his hands. How could this have happened?

"You okay, Harii-san?" Yousuke asked in concern.

"Yeah... yeah, I'm all right," he mumbled. "It's just that... it _never_ seems to _end_... Why does everything have to happen to _us_?"

"Because you are Harii Pottaa and Doreiko Marufou. Everybody want you out of games."

Harry jerked. Suddenly he knew exactly how it must be.

He quickly shot up from the table and hurried out of the dining room.

He could hear Yousuke mutter behind him. "I something of wrong say?"

Harry ran up the stairs to their bedroom and found the blonde impatiently tapping the wall with his index finger. "How long were you planning on keeping me waiting, hon?" he asked irritably. "I have an important appointment tomorrow."

"No you don't," Harry said firmly. "Draco, listen... has anyone... done something to you lately? Has anyone said anything threatening or implied that they might've tampered with you in any way?"

The blonde frowned. "What do you mean? Are you saying that someone's deliberately messed with my mind?"

"Yeah, how else do you explain all these weird changes you've been going through? I'm certain that someone's trying to break us up by using magic. But I don't think it's Pywercaseley. He wouldn't be this subtle. Percy's always loved to bask in his own glory. You have any suggestions?"

Draco pondered it a while. Then, he said, "The only one I can think of is Cho. When I got back home from the hospital after I was poisoned she said she'd hoped that I'd be dead now. Yes. It has to be her."

"Cho?" Harry said and laughed. "No way! It can't be her! She's way too innocent to do anything like that!"

The blonde glared at him for a few eerie moments, and then he slowly shook his head in disappointment. "Now I definitely know she's done something to us," he said gloomily, "because you don't believe me. You always believe me, Harry. You never question me. But you don't believe me now? You even _defend_ her? She's trying to break us up, Harry. Think about it. When did all this start? When she showed up and forced herself into your life again. And remember how she tried to grope me in the dark when she thought I was you. I bet that's when she poisoned me – and she probably gave you some kind of Influencial Potion to make sure that you always took her side in case I ever accused her of anything. And it worked, didn't it? You're taking her side now."

Harry stared at him with offense and indignation. "I am _not_ taking her side! I'm merely saying that she's an innocent, compassionate, and friendly girl! She didn't do any of this! I know you don't like me spending time with her, but that's not a reason to accuse her of trying to kill you."

"All right. Forget it. I never said anything about it, okay? Forget it. Please, do go ahead and spend time with your ex girlfriend and refuse to believe _your boyfriend _when he's telling you the truth. I don't care. I really don't. Spend as much time with her as you like. But don't expect me to be all friendly with her, because I can see through her."

Harry was just about to protest when Piper entered the room with another test-tube of steaming potion. After some persuasion he managed to make Draco drink it. The blonde became quite embarrassed when he realised what he'd been about to do. To him, the prospect of leading the rest of his life as a woman was worse than the nightmare about the forest.

Life at the Manor finally seemed to get some kind of routine and quiet. It was soon confirmed that the other Draco indeed _was_ gone for good, and Draco was incredibly relieved that he was not suffering any more blackouts. But he still had to take the consequences of his other personality's actions. They gave Blaise a proper funeral this time and said a tearful goodbye. As for little Joz... Snape determined that the Masamadie in fact had damaged her genetic structure in a severe way. Although the potion had only been churning through her veins for one hour out of three needed to kill her, there was still evidence of it to study in the blood sample. Apparently some kind of genetic mutation had given her abnormal powers, and her mind had been damaged. It was too soon to tell, but Snape had a theory that she might get severely mentally disturbed in the future and that she might use those powers to do awful things.

It was a hard fact to take for Harry and Draco. Even though Joz was only six months old they had to give her up. For everyone's sake she was signed into St Mungo's Psychiatric Ward for Children and would probably have to spend the rest of her life there. They were only allowed to visit three to four hours each weekend, and that hurt. Their own child...

But the Healers assured them that it was for the best. She needed special attention and care, things they could not give her with everything else they needed to handle.

In September 2007 Piper had a daughter of her own. At first Yousuke and her could not agree on a name for their baby girl, but after two weeks of unnecessary quarrelling about it they decided to call her Shizuka. Yousuke explained to them that it meant "silence" and that it suited the girl perfectly since she never cried. She was always a very calm and nice little girl. Sometimes her parents called her Shizukana, which meant "silent" or "still".

Their arrangement actually worked out just fine, and Draco was never bothered by having his sister's family at the Manor. The only time he saw them was during dinner and on one of their birthdays. But one day his attitude changed, though...

They were all sitting in the parlour for once, chatting casually and having tea, and at least Harry thought they were having a very nice time. Until Piper flew out of her armchair and began to jump up and down with excitement. "Oh, oh, oh! Now I've got it!" she said. "Now I remember what I said when you guys switched bodies! It was—"

"Oh, no, no, don't say it!" both Harry and Draco said, waving their arms in front of them in panic.

But there was no stopping her.

"I said 'Wabbafunktany'!" she exclaimed, happy with herself that she'd actually remembered.

Then she seemed to realise what she had just done and clamped her hands to her mouth.

"Oh no! I didn't mean it!"

But it was already too late: The little ball of light had already appeared and exploded in their faces.

_(And so the tables were turned... End.)_

"Boku o michibiku kasukana shiruetto..." - like a faint silhouette that guides me...

* * *

**_Haha... well, there you have it. ;P Poor, poor lads... when WILL that Piper learn!? (lol) This was the last part of "And so the tables were turned..." so with the the next chapter I will start something completely new. ;) This part of the story became very long! All I can say about the next part is that it has to do with parallel universes._**

**_Please tell me your opinions as always!  
Love, Piper_**


	43. PU part one: A long anticipated Yes

**Rating:** NC-17

**Pairing:** H/D

**Disclaimer:** All the characters belong to J.K. Rowling, except for my original characters Piper, James, Joz, the Sakanoues, the Forgettes, Jonathan Kelly, and Timothy.

**Disclaimer II:** The nickname "Dracums" belongs to my friend Golden.

**A/N:** Here's the first part of the _Parallel Universe _suite! Enjoy! ;)

* * *

**Parallel Universe, part one:  
A long anticipated Yes**

They just passed outside the room, and not even that could be made in peace anymore. Things were looking up for the two gayyies – as Piper had begun to refer to them as – but that did not mean that the entire world needed to know what they were doing behind closed doors. (Heh, yeah... as if _anyone_ could claim _not_ to know what they were doing in there!) Actually, Piper did not mind – she just got kinkier with time – but Yousuke clearly preferred to be oblivious. But, you see... that was a bit difficult when certain sounds travelled through doors and walls...

They were just passing in the hallway on their way to the library, but—

"Aah, ah, ah!"

Piper could feel Yousuke freeze.

She nudged him on, but he moved awkwardly stiffly and was difficult to manoeuvre.

"Harry, Harry, Harry! God, Harry! Aaaaahh!"

Yousuke stopped and cast a disgusted glance at the closed bedroom door. "Mata?!" (Again?!) he exclaimed exasperatedly.

"Yes," she said, and sighed. "But don't bother them, they're just happy things are finally working out for them without external interferences."

"I understand that! But do they have to _do_ all time?!"

Piper laughed. "You've lived here for three years and you _still_ don't know my brother? If you did you'd know that him and Harry can go on for ever—"

"God, yes! Yes! Yes!"

"—and they enjoy sex very much. I think that's when they feel closest to each other. And isn't that the whole point with sex? To feel close to another human being?"

Her husband sighed. "I guess you right. Sumimasen, Paipaa-chan. (Sorry, Piper-chan.) I be nice now. They can do whenever they like."

Piper patted him on the head, and they kept walking. Right before they reached the library door, another scream cut through the air.

"Ooh, Harry, fuck, yeah! Harder, harder, harder, hard—"

Piper could not help but chuckle gleefully. "So, Harry's on top, then?" she commented with a kinky smile.

Yousuke blinked. "Nani? (What?) How you know?"

"Because it's always the one on his back screaming. They like to take turns. Bet Harry's gonna be the one hollering dirty words next." Laughing pervertedly, she stepped over the threshold and began to ogle her way through the potions section.

It was early March, 2010, and it finally seemed as if all dark wizards had decided to let their families be; there had been no sign of Pywercaseley and his Death Eaters for over two years. Dumbledore figured that they were lying low, planning even more devious schemes, waiting for the perfect time to execute their dark plans. They were all glad to have some time to breathe – especielly the laddies. The past three years had been tough on them, what with giving up Joz and everything. But they knew that little Josephine had it much better in the care of competent professional Healers that could devote all their time to her and _only_ her, and there was less a risk of her ever turning into a deranged monster now that she was supervised 24-7. Since Harry finally admitted to himself that he hated being an Auror – after nineteen months of service directly following his graduation from Auror School with more than outstanding grades – and had begun to play professional Quidditch instead, he had much more time to go and visit Joz at St Mungo's. Draco, on the other hand, who had way too much time on his hands, often got frustrated because he could not just go and visit her when he felt like it because of their strict visiting hours.

At least she seemed to know who they were, and that comforted them a lot.

Piper had turned into a baby machine. Besides little Shizuka, whom of course was the same age as Joz, she and Yousuke now had almost-two-year-old Keitarou and twins on the way. Each time Draco caught a glimpse of her immense belly across a room or in a corridor he shot angry glares at her. He still did not like the idea of housing a litter of mini-Pipers, but regardless of how firm he was on his point he never had the heart to throw her out and probably never would have. Deep down in his heart, he loved her. They both knew it. He was just way too proud to ever say it again.

But she was happy with that. He had said it twice, and that was enough for her. She enjoyed life with her Japanese husband with the same over-enthusiastic joy and "genkiness" that she enjoyed anything else, and she did not feel like she needed to spend time with Draco anymore. They were both happy with having their own wings of the house and only saw each other on those rare occasions they shared a family dinner. But she often snuck up to the third floor and stood outside their door at night, trying her best to catch a few obscenities...

"Kono hon desu ka?" (Is it this book?) Yousuke asked all of a sudden and held out a thick volume.

Piper studied it. "Yeah, that's the one," she said, and snapped it out of his grasp. "Thanks, love. Now let's scurry back downstairs and make some Polyjuice Potion."

* * *

"That was bloody brilliant," Draco panted ten minutes later as they were lying on their backs in bed, happily smiling and holding sweaty hands. After listening to their slowly slowing breathing for a while, he decided this was the perfect time to ask him. "Er, Harry ..."

The raven-haired man snuggled up closer. "What?" he murmured sleepily against the blonde's shoulder.

He shut his eyes in excited anticipation, thinking _'Okay, here goes nothing...'_

"Harry, I've been thinking. A lot. I've been thinking about many things the past six months, and I... God, I don't know how to say this, I'm so bloody nervous..." He stopped temporarily to take a deep breath and steady himself a bit. Then he just blurted it right out. "Harry, I want to have your baby!"

He waited impatiently to the sound of his own thundering heartbeats.

Sheets stirred and rustled beside him. He knew that Harry was raising himself on one arm to look at him, but he still had his eyes shut because he would not dare look at him right now, he was too afraid that Harry would not like the idea and would tell him to go fuck himself or something. Although that would of course be totally unnecessary right now... "Are you serious?" Harry asked, and Draco thought he detected a hint of excitement and happiness in his voice.

He forced his eyes open. Emerald green sparkles met him.

"Yeah, I'm serious. I want to have a baby with you. I know, we already have two, but I... The last two times I was sort of forced into it, but now I really, really want to. I want _us_ to choose for ourselves. D-do-do you want to have a baby with me, Harry?"

It was obvious that he would not have had to ask. Harry's lips curved into a beautiful loving smile and his green eyes glistened with happiness and affection. He bent down to kiss the blonde. "Of course I want to have a baby with you, Draco. Oh, I love you so much." They kissed for several long lovely seconds.

Then Draco shot up from the bed and began to search for his trousers. Looking back at Harry right before running out of the room, he said, "You wanna make one now?" Harry barely had time to nod before the blonde had disappeared from view and started to run down the hall towards the stairs. He took them two at a time and then kept darting towards Piper's wing. He banged on the door in impatience and silently urged them to open _quickly_!

"Hey! What's the hurry?" Piper asked irritably as she opened the door, but fell silent at the sight of her brother's huge grin. "What's wrong with you?"

"You have any Priberty Potion lying around?" he asked.

Piper gasped and threw her arms around him. "Oh, Draco! I'm so happy for you! Of course! Just wait here, I'll go get it right away!" She was only gone for half a minute. "Here you go. It's the new and improved version. It's just like the old one with the only exception that it now only needs three minutes to start working instead of three hours. Good luck, Drakie-bums!"

"Don't call me that!" he yelled over his shoulder as he darted back to Harry, but this time there was a jocular tone in his voice instead of the usual indignified wrath that always came with those nicknames. Today he did not care what she called him – he was way too happy to be bothered by anything. Normally he would growl and lash out at her for calling him 'Drakie-bums', or any of those other nicknames she always called him, because they all had something to do with his arse, and to him that meant mocking him for being gay. He _hated_ that.

Harry was lying sprawled on the bed with twinkling eyes when Draco returned, panting from the swift rush back up the stairs. He waved the small bottle before him in a teasing manner before unscrewing the cork and swallowing the semi-cold liquid in one deep swig. Then he jumped into bed with Harry and pressed his lips to the other man's. He pressed their naked, masculine bodies tight together, urging Harry on, eager to feel his hands on his skin, to be covered with kisses and nibbles, and finally to be penetrated and satisfied. A whimper escaped him as groping fingers travelled over his arms and then along the sides of his chest.

"But... is it... gonna work?" Harry asked between kisses. "Doesn't it... need... three hours?"

"Uh-uh," Draco grinned, and captured Harry's mouth with his. "Only three minutes..."

Harry gently grabbed his arms and rolled them both around with himself on top, eagerly running his hands over the blonde's upper body, eliciting small squeaky moans from him. Black hair fell like a halo around his slightly flushed face as his hot breath fluttered against Draco's jaw. His teeth were carefully closed around his earlobe.

Draco cried out and clasped his hands around Harry's shoulders. "No foreplay," he begged. "I'm ready… Come inside me, baby. Love me."

Harry did not need further persuasion; he pushed inside and heard himself mumble a muffled "oh, babe". It was kind of cool to hear himself like that, almost as if he was listening from a distance. The blonde caught his attention again by smashing his lips into Harry's, forcefully sticking his tongue deep inside his mouth. He responded by thrusting hard into the blonde – "God, Harry…" – deliberately pounding against his prostate in a merciless yet lovable fashion while the room faded away around them. He could feel Draco's hard dick brush against his abdomen, and it sparked his yearning, increased his hunger, and sent him spiralling into an emotional state beyond mere desire; he needed… _needed_…

"Haaahh… haah… Harry… God, yes, more – _more_! Keep… keep… _aah_! Please, left, left, please, little more left… _yes_! God, yes, _yes_! Harry, baby, fucking beautiful…"

There was no stopping him, and his ecstatic cries urged Harry on, made him move faster and thrust harder and deeper and deeper still, and he felt himself getting lost in a mist of pleasure in which he could barely discern his own body anymore. "Draco… Draco…" He still heard his own voice as if it was travelling to him over a ravine from a far distance, but the blonde's words echoed inside his head as strongly as anything.

Draco bucked and thrashed and unconsciously smashed up his hips to meet Harry. His eyelashes were fluttering, his mouth opened wide in silent cries, and his quick breathing was the loveliest sound Harry had ever heard. The arch of his back, the healthy blush on his face, the line of his jaw and his aristocratic chin… details that Harry savoured and hungrily swallowed with his emerald eyes, details that were so beautiful and so unique that they alone made him love Draco a little bit more.

The blonde gave a last ecstatic cry as he reached climax, and that was the end of Harry. Shuddering and burning with a pleasure so strong it almost twinged, he released himself into Draco. For a moment he was still, stiff above Draco, waiting for the shudders and the twinkling of nerves to decrease; then he fell on top of Draco, panting in delight.

The blonde carressed the back of his head, slowly, slowly and very lovingly running his fingers through Harry's black hair. "I love you," he whispered with his lips to Harry's ear.

"But I love you more," Harry teased. He just lay there, with Draco's fingers in his hair, panting into Draco's chest, listening to his gradually slowing heartbeats.

"That's not possible." He closed his arms around Harry's back, but yet he managed to keep stroking his hair. It felt good to actually be held for once. He had been doing the holding for so long he could not even remember when he had last been held himself. He closed his eyes. "Yes."

Harry tried to make himself more comfortable without having to slide off Draco. "Wha'? I haven't asked you anything," he objected drowsily.

"You did three years ago."

"But how am I supposed to remember a question I possibly asked you three years ago?" He wished Draco would just shut up and let him fall asleep in peace. He could not even hear his heartbeats anymore. He liked listening to Draco's heart beat.

"It was the kind of question you only ask a person once," the blonde elaborated politely. "It was _the_ question. I said no back then, but now I'm saying yes. Yes, I will, Harry. I'd love to."

Harry stiffened. Wait a minute. Was this..? Was he..? The only question special enough to only ask a person once that he had asked three years previously and that Draco had said no to was…

"A… Are you..? Do you? I mean… is this what I think it is? You will? You want to marry me, is that what you're saying? You'll marry me, Dracums?"

Draco pulled his arms tighter around Harry's back. "Yes."

Harry did not know what to say to that. He was too happy to find the words. So he just lay there on Draco's stomach, his ear pressed to Draco's heart, with the blonde's breath upon the crown of his head. The fingers stroking the back of his head became lazier by the minute, and eventually they stopped moving altogether. The blonde's grip on him lightened somewhat. Harry could hear him sigh happily and then what was unmistakably Draco's sleep-breathing. Hardly fifteen seconds passed before Harry too fell asleep.

* * *

"Seriously?! You're getting married?!" Piper shrieked as they had finally managed to gather the whole family in the parlour.

"That was about bloody time, too!" Ron exclaimed and pretended to be annoyed and tired with them.

Harry and Draco had decided to invite all the people they considered to be part of their family for a special dinner at the Manor so they could announce the good news. When they'd awoken that morning Harry had finally found his tongue again. For a few crazy minutes he had rambled happily, expressing his great delight at Draco's answer. And now they were standing in front of James, Piper, Yousuke, Shizuka, Keitarou, Ron and Jonathan and the rest of the Weasleys, and Professor Lupin, who was once again in employ at Hogwarts. (Piper had grown tired of the place and started work at the Ministry of Magic as a Potion Maker instead.) Harry considered Lupin to be a very important part of their family because he was the only living link that he had to both his father and Sirius.

Draco squeezed Harry's hand and looked him deep into the eyes as he said, "But that's not all." He plucked a small odd device out of his robes pocket – Piper's homemade Priberty Measurer – and blew into the tube-like end. Immediately, a whistle began to blow and the little machine spewed clouds of thick grey smoke. Ten seconds later a small green light had begun to glow. Draco proudly held it up for them all to see.

But Piper seemed to be the only one who understood what that meant. She gave a loud shriek and clapped her hands over her mouth. With some effort she rose from the arm of the couch and came towards him. "Oh, my God! Congratulations!" She hugged him hard, and they both laughed happily.

The other people in the room gave them blank looks.

Harry decided to explain to them what had just happened. "That little thingy is like a pregnancy test for men," he said with a meaning wink at them, "and Draco is positive."

There were exclamations of joy all around the room, and Mrs Weasley instantaneously walked up to Harry and embraced him. "Oh, I am so happy for you, dear!" she said with tears in her eyes. "You are such perfect parents, both of you! You make me so proud…" She snivelled against his shoulder.

Feeling quite embarrassed, he patted her back. "It's quite all right, Mrs Weasley, you don't need to cry," he said, blushing crimson.

"Oh, but I'm crying of joy, dear!"

"That doesn't make it less awkward, I'm afraid."

Mrs Weasley laughed a little and withdrew from the embrace. "I'm sorry, Harry dear, it's just that you feel like my own son. I swear, when Arthur and I were talking the other day I honestly thought you were."

Mr Weasley came up to them and put his arm around his wife's shoulder. "It's true, I can vouch for that. She asked me if we couldn't go visit the twins, and I naturally assumed she meant going to Fred and George's joke shop. But when I suggested us going there, Molly said 'No, not them – our other twins! The young ones!' I didn't understand who she meant, but when I asked her about it she said 'Harry and Ron, you silly man!'" Mr Weasley laughed heartily and shook his head at his wife.

Molly blushed. "Yeah, well, I think of you as my second pair of twins…"

"Wow!" Ron said with a note of humour. "Imagine that, being twins with _Harry Potter_!"

They all laughed.

"Uh-uh! Soon-to-be Harry _Malfoy_!" Draco pointed out.

All their guests blinked at Harry in astonishment. "What?" Ron said blankly. "You're taking his name?"

"No, I'm not!" Harry said with emphasis. "I wouldn't want to be a Malfoy even if my life depended on it! No offense, babe."

"None taken," Draco assured him with a smile.

"I'm _not_ taking his name," Harry went on defiantly. "It's just one of Draco's whims, nothing to take seriously. He's trying to talk me into conserving the Malfoy name for the future."

"Excuse me!" Draco said in mock indignation. "Our name happens to be one of the most respected in wizard history, and I'm not just going to give it up. If one has to take the other's name it's _going_ to be you, Harry, because I'm _not_ going to be Draco Potter. It sounds ridiculous – honestly."

"Yeah, you're right. Draco Alastair Mortus Potter wouldn't really be striking, would it?"

They laughed. After another few minutes of teasing games, they sat down to dinner. Ron and Harry immediately engaged in a violent conversation about the upcoming Quidditch game on Saturday. It would be their first game against each other, and they were both pretty excited about it. Harry was playing Seeker for Puddlemere United and had done so for the past sixteen months while Ron played Keeper for the Chudley Cannons. It was like a dream come true to him – to actually be playing on his favourite team of twenty years! They had both been on England's team during the last World Cup Series, and they had actually made it to the finals in Egypt. Bill had invited the entire Weasley family over for that special occasion, and they had all watched the game from the Top Box thanks to the family's contacts at the Ministry, but after three days of violent and fast Quidditch playing South Korea had won the tournament. But it had nonetheless been a great experience for all of them.

James only sat at the table for very short whiles and spent most of the evening running around the room playing various games. Now and then Shizuka made him company, but since they did not even speak the same language (Piper had never bothered teaching her English properly) they did not think it was any fun playing together and soon got tired of one another.

The boy was still extremely optimistic and merry – something that both fathers were very happy about. So far, there had been no sign of Tom, and they intended to keep it that way. They had begun to think of 'Tom' as a possible second personality to James, a personality that would only put in an appearance if Harry made a crucial mistake in raising him.

Harry watched him with a small smile. "Isn't he adorable?" he murmured, more to himself than to anyone else.

"It is surprising how much he already is like your father, Harry," Lupin replied, obviously watching the boy, too. "I bet young James will grow up to become a fine wizard, such as yourself and Draco."

Harry gazed at the professor. "Thanks, Remus. I thought I was the only one who saw it..."

Lupin raised an eyebrow in inquiry. "That he resembles your father? Well, not many of your friends knew him." Then, after a moment's silence, he added: "Neither did you."

A sadness came over Harry as he watched James play with his miniature racing broom. "I know. But I saw him once... you remember, don't you? When I was accidentally flung into Professor Snape's memory. Down by the lake..."

"Yes," Lupin said, "I remember. Yes, your son most definitely remind me of the way James was when we were at school. Him _and_ Sirius, as a matter of fact. But Harry, don't take that as anything negative. They both came out all right in the end."

* * *

Draco moaned in irritation and tried to rub a sore spot on his back. He glowered over at Harry, who was cursing over his shirt, which miraculously shrunk to a children's small every time he tried to put it on. "Am I the only who feels reluctant to live through this day?" he asked in a dark tone.

Harry looked up. "Wha'?" He made one last attempt at putting the shirt on and cursed even louder when it once again shrunk before their eyes. "Who the fuck cursed my shirt?!" he shrieked in exasperation.

"Probably Piper, she's sort of having an indecent mockery week or something," Draco said and threw Harry a disliking look. "Wear some robes, will ya? And try to make them match, all right?"

"What's wrong with _my_ clothes?!" Harry spat.

"They're Muggle clothes."

"Yeah, so? I'm half Muggle, remember. I grew up with Muggles. I'm used to wearing jeans and T-shirts and regular jumpers and my Uncle's old socks – I _like_ T-shirts and jumpers. Just because you're so bloody prissy and snazzy..."

Draco jerked. "I'm _what_ you said?"

"Prissy and snazzy!" Harry yelled at an eardrum-splitting volume that made Draco jump in his seat and get to his feet with his cheeks burning and his breath temporarily caught in his throat. He soared up to Harry and threw himself over him. Harry met him halfway, and their lips crashed together in a hard kiss, their bodies slammed into each other with incredible force. Draco pressed him up against the wardrobe and mercilessly tore his bloody jeans off – it was not even wizards jeans, for crying out loud! – throwing them to one side to prove his point. The raven-haired man responded by fusiously pushing him down onto the floor and defiantly biting his lower lip, drawing a little blood. But this time he would not have his way. Oh, no; this time Draco would win.

He forced Harry down on his back, pressed him down onto the cold, hard floor, and magicked his clothes away. Then, without the slightest bit of warning, he forced inside him, instantaneously thrusting violently and angrily. Harry replied with low animal grunts and defiantly scratched him on the back. The blonde wanted him to scream, wanted him to succumb to the power of his thrusts, therefore he moved more determinedly, and soon he was granted the reaction he wanted.

"God, yes, harder! Make me pay! Make me _pay_!"

Harry's back slammed against the floor, but he did not seem to notice. He just clasped his hands around Draco's upper arms to hold him still as if he thought he'd wander off somewhere without finishing what he had started.

The blonde swallowed the image of Harry whole and savoured the ecstatic look on his face, the fluttering of his semi-long dark lashes, the flush on his face, the wonderful nakedness of his muscular upper body... Grunting a low "uh, uh, uh" over and over again, he arched his back as he drew nearer to climax, slammed into Harry with twice the force. "Haah... say you love me...," he demanded, shuddering. "Say you bloody love me!"

Harry just wheezed for the longest time, then he threw his head back even more, bucking and arching, and semi-whispered semi-shouted, "Yes! Yes, I love you, I love you, I love you!"

Draco gave one last thrust and finished them both in a lovely nervous explosion.

Panting, Harry put a hand on the blonde's cheek. "You don't need to fuck me blue to make me say I love you," he mocked. "But I have to admit, it does help."

They laughed. It was so wonderful to have all that tension successfully fucked out of them. Nothing could beat a good screw when you were angry and frustrated. _Totally_ made you relax again.

Draco sighed. "I have a doctor's appointment today," he complained. "First compulsory check-up on the pregnancy. And then I have to go to Diagon Alley to pick up quills and parchment and Floo powder and rats' spleens and frogs' livers... And _then_ I have to babysit Piper's bloody brats while _she_ goes shopping. Bloody sister... just 'cause her husband works for the Japanese Ministry of Magic..."

Harry snorted. "What about _my_ day, then? First I have therapy – which is going fine, by the way – and then I have a meeting with my old co-workers at the Ministry, then I'm due at Hogwarts to sign the new baby in... And what was that last thing? Oh yeah. I'm going to Privet Drive to help Aunt Petunia with some persistent weed that won't go away the normal way so she wants me to try some spells. What the Hell did you do to those people? All of a sudden they want my help with everyday troubles, and only a couple years ago they were dead scared of magic."

Draco shrugged. "I made their son thin – maybe that counts for something even by their standards?"

"Oh, yeah... that's right. You used magic to help him with that diet of his."

"Not quite. I just made all the fat go away."

They both sighed deeply.

"Your day sounds much better than mine," Draco complained.

Harry stared at him with exasperation. "You think meetings and therapy and magical weed whacking sounds _fun_?" he asked in disbelief.

"No, I never said it was _fun_, but it sounds better." All of a sudden a crazy thought hit him. He looked at Harry with hopeful expectation. "Hey, you wanna trade?"

Harry frowned. "Whatchu mean?"

"Switch bodies for the day," the blonde elaborated. "You'll do my chores and babysit Piper's bloody children while I'll go to your therapy session and tell Dr Windpipe just how good I sleep at night, and everyone'll be happy! No-one will have to know – it'll be our little secret."

They had discovered the counter-curse for Piper's "Wabbafunktany"-spell that made them switch bodies; it had been exactly what Draco had joked about. You simply said "Bodilo Changeo Backo" and went to bed, and after a minimum of six hours' sleep you had changed back to normal. So now they could easily switch bodies for short periods of time and still get their own bodies back when they desired it.

Harry thought it over for a while. Then he said, "Okay. Why not? What could go wrong?"

A million things...

They went their separate ways when they arrived at St Mungo's – Harry to the maternity ward and Draco to the psychiatric ward. He felt somewhat embarrassed at being there. What if anyone saw him? But then he remembered that he was Harry now. That made it OK. No-one would think that _he_, Draco Malfoy, was mentally unstable. But come to think of it... He was going to marry Harry, and he did not want anyone to think of _him_ as mentally unstable, either!

Lost in his own thoughts, he did not pay much attention to what was happening around him when he walked up to the information desk, therefore he did not notice the two dark-clad figures that came up at him from behind. Suddenly someone had grabbed him from behind and covered him with some kind of cloak. When he tried to scream he realised that a hand was clasped around his mouth. He was abducted from the hospital before he could signal to the Healer nurse that he needed help.

Draco tried to fight his assailants off, but when he began to flail his arms about someone grabbed his wrists and forced them behind his back. He tried to kick back at the perps, but since he could not see anything and had to kick at such a twisted angle, he did not hit anything.

Panicking, he tried to squirm free. The Death Eaters. The Death Eaters had got him! They thought he was Harry, they thought they had got The Boy Who Lived, and now Draco was going to be The Boy Who _Died_ on His Way to Therapy! _Oh my God_, he thought and shut his eyes in terror, _I'm going to die, I'm never going to see Harry again, I'm never going to see my children again! Oh God, help me..._

There was a flash of greenish-turquois light that briefly blinded Draco, and then the lot arrived to an empty, unfurnished room.

One of the thugs kicked him hard in the backside and he was flung forward onto the floor. He landed on his hands and knees, the wind knocked out of him. The cloak was finally taken off him, and he caught a glimpse of shining silvery fabric in the corner of his eye. He stiffened. An Invisibility Cloak? The only person owning one he knew of was Harry... And they were really rare, extremely expensive... Trying to catch his breath, he got up on unsteady legs and turned around to get a good look at his assailants.

Three tall figures in long black, hooded cloaks were standing before him.

Acting on pure primitive instinct, Draco drew his wand in less than a second and directed the first jinx that came to mind at the middle one. "Furnunculus!" he yelled, his voice cracking with hysteria.

The middle figure cursed and threw his hands up to his face. "Oh, man! Shit, what did you do to me?" it shrieked in a mix of pain and exasperation.

Draco just blinked stupidly. He lowered his wand hand.

It was _Ron's_ voice.

The other two blackclad figures rushed forward to aid the jinxed one. While Draco stared at them they all lowered their hoods at the same time and revealed their faces.

It _was_ Ron! Ron and Jonathan and Ginny!

Ron's face was covered in huge boils. He cursed even worse than before. "What the Hell d'you do that for, mate?!" he yelled with indignation and fury.

"What?" Draco yelled back, affronted. "You were dressed as Death Eaters! What did you expect me to do, huh?! What the fuck were you _thinking_? I could have _killed_ you!"

"Yeah, like Harry bloody-prissy-altruistic Potter would ever actually _kill_ anyone!" Ron exclaimed angrily, trying to fend his worried sister off with one hand. "It's all right," he said to her. "Bloke didn't know better."

Draco laughed sarcastically. "There's only one thing wrong: I'm not Harry. But for your information, Harry _has_ killed people, you know. At least five Death Eaters have fallen by his wand. So don't go thinking he'd never hurt anyone, he's no bloody saint."

The others stared at him with new apprehension. "You're not Harry?" Ron asked warily, as if he thought that _they_ had stumbled across a _real_ Death Eater.

"No, I'm Draco."

They all exhaled with relief.

"Piper switch your bodies again, eh?" Jonathan stated with a knowing twinkle in his blue eyes.

"No – Harry switched'em."

Yet again they looked at him as if he was crazy.

"_Harry_ switched your bodies? You mean you changed voluntarily? Are you mad?" Ron wondered in disbelief.

"No, we just swopped for the day. We know how to switch back now, but we haven't told Piper about that or she'd probably create another spell similar to this one to amuse herself with." He paused to yawn. "Anyway, Harry's taking care of my shopping today and I'm doing his therapy and some meeting at the Ministry for him. Right now he should be at my doctor's appointment. So, what's up with you? What you planning for Harry? It's not his birthday for another four months."

He looked at them with genuine curiosity.

The redhead blinked. Then he started as if something bad had just struck him. "Harry's at your doctor's appointment?" he echoed darkly.

"Yeah. Why?"

"But in that case, Piper is..."

He never finished the sentence, but he did not have to; Draco understood perfectly well what this must be. Surprise bachelor parties – what else? And Piper had obviously planned something real nasty for Draco, so he figured Harry must be facing an abduction as well at the moment. Maybe he had been lucky to wind up with Ron and Johnny, then.

* * *

Harry was not at all bothered by the medical examination that he had to undergo when he came to St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, but it was not as if he sat back and enjoyed it, either. At least he got it officially confirmed that Draco truly was pregnant – now in his third week – and that the baby was just fine. He thanked the Healer midwife and left the maternity ward with a pleased smile on his face. He could not wait to tell Draco the great news.

When he was walking down the hall to the fireplace by the main waiting room on that floor, he had a feeling that someone was tailing him. Uneasy and slightly frustrated with himself for being so paranoid, he tried to shake the feeling off, but his skin kept prickling and the hairs on his neck were raised. Just as he was about to turn around and check it, two people, both wearing long black hooded cloaks, briskly walked up next to him and grabbed an arm each. "Hey!" he warned, but was cut off before he could tell them to bugger off and leave him alone. They Apparated him to some dark room and knocked him down on the floor. He tried his best to swirl around in mid-air so he would land on his back and not on his stomach.

He fumbled for his wand, but he was all entangled in his travelling cloak and could not get his hands free. Cursing, he looked up at his abductors.

When they took off their hoods he saw that it was Piper and Yousuke. Staring in bewilderment, he tried to grasp the situation. Why the Hell had _they_ kidnapped him?!

"Congratulations, Drakie-poops, you big baby!" Piper shouted with childish excitement and threw herself at him, which was a slightly painful experience bearing her very pregnant belly in mind.

Harry coughed and gasped for breath. "Hey, hey, take it easy, will you? You're five months along already. And wipe that grin off your face – you've got the wrong man. I'm only doing a few chores for Dracums – I'm _not_ him. He's off somewhere in my body, probably trying to run away from my past employers at the Ministry..." He stopped when he saw her blank expression. "I'm Harry," he said.

"Oh!" Piper said. "Then I get it." She looked about to leave him there and go search for the real Draco when she started and swirled back around. "Wait a minute! If you're Harry, then Ron's having all the fun with my brother!"

Harry frowned. "Ron? What would he want with me today? He knows I'm busy and... Hang on. Is this a bachelor party?" He moaned irritably when Piper nodded vigourously. "Piper! We told you no bachelor parties! What were you thinking? Is Ron dressed like that as well?"

"Uh-huh. We thought it'd be fun to give you guys a little scare first."

"Then I'm afraid Ron'll be either dead or jinxed into unrecognisability by now," Harry stated. "Take me to them, I'm worried that Draco's done something terrible to him if he thought he was a real Death Eater..."

So, the bachelor parties had become a total catastrophy. Ron had to go to St Mungo's to have his boils removed, Harry (or Draco in Harry's body, rather) missed both his meetings and received a Howler from his former employer at the Ministry, and they definitely did not get any shopping done that afternoon. The only upside to it was that neither of them needed to babysit Piper's children anymore. Harry completely forgot about his aunt, as well, but that did not really bother him when he recalled it late that night.

The following morning he did not want to get out of bed. He just wanted to lie there next to Draco all day and cuddle. But someone needed to take James to the magical day-care centre, so he sighed and slid out of bed. "Wait for me, all right?" he murmured in the blonde's ear before leaving.

Draco just waved his hand at him and kept sleeping.

He was still fast asleep and snoring softly when Harry returned. A quick glance at the clock told him that it was almost noon. Grinning teasingly, he threw a pillow at the blonde, who gave an extra loud snore and jerked awake. "Huh? Wha'?" he asked in confusion and surveyed the room through one half-open eye. Then he spotted Harry by the foot of the bed and moaned. "Bastard... I was sleeping so good...," he complained whiningly.

"Too good if you ask me," Harry mocked.

"Fuck you, and shut up, too. For once I didn't have that forest-dream..."

"Wha' forest-dream?" Harry asked and snuggled down beside him.

Draco demonstratively crawled out of bed and went for his dressing gown. "The dream in which I die, remember? I've been having it at least twice a week for more than four years now. And I'm telling you, Harry, it's a premonition. I'm gonna die in that forest one day. For real, not just in the dream."

Suddenly hit by a bad fit of the collywobbles, Harry shot up on his feet and went over to Draco. "Don't say that! If you say it out loud it's gonna come true!" he found himself saying hysterically.

The blonde snorted scornfully. With a sceptic and sarcastic look at Harry, he said, "And you claim not to believe in fortune? You claim not to take Divination seriously? You should see your face right now, Harry, you look like _you_ just died..." He chuckled darkly.

Harry had a sudden urge to pinch Draco and see if he reacted to the pain. But instead he pulled the blonde into his arms and kissed him with naked desperation. It was as if he needed to prove to himself that he was really alive and that the dream about the forest was just a dream and nothing else. Draco was stunned by his spontaneity, but slowly came out of his paralysis and kissed him back. The invite that Harry had presented him with seemed to be just what the blonde had been waiting for, because he pushed him back down onto the bed and straddled him, a mischievous smile on his pale face.

"Harry, you're mine to mess with now," he said with silver eyes sparkling with badly disguised desire.

Harry pressed the blonde down on top of him and forced his mouth into a wet booby trap. His gaze locked on Draco's, he whispered, "Wasn't I always?"

The blonde threw Harry's clothes aside and hungrily licked away at his abdomen. Hardly two minutes later they were joined anew, both lost in their own world and totally oblivious of the bedroom door that Harry had left ajar upon arrival. With eyes only for Harry, Draco muttered a low "Ahh", threw his head back and—

Piper was standing in the doorway with what was unmistakably drool trickling down from the corner of her mouth.

Draco stiffened. His happy grin had been shoved away by a deep scowl.

"Whassamatter?" Harry asked beneath him, panting slightly. "Why'd you stop?" When no answer came he shifted his head to peer up in the direction Draco was looking. Spotting Piper, he jerked, and a terrified expression disfigured his lovely face. "Shit!" he exclaimed, and instinctively pulled away from Draco.

Draco rolled off him with a deep sigh and sat on the foot of the bed with his back to his sister. Furiously grabbing his robes from the chair by the desk, he growled, "What the Hell do you want?"

But instead of answering, Piper said (in a rather thick voice, mind you), "Woooow... I totally see why you spend half your life in bed..."

Draco gazed back with an inquiring frown and noticed that she was staring at Harry's package.

Harry instantly snatched one of the pillows and covered his crotch with it, blushing crimson with embarrassment. He would not look at her but stared in front of himself as if he was trying to pass for a statue.

Draco had pulled on a pair of black custom designed wizards trousers and stood before his sister. "You barged in because...?"

Piper started. "Oh! Right! Uncle Sevvy's here to see you."

The frown deepened. "Snape is? Why?"

"Dunno, but he wants to speak to you both. Says it's urgent."

So there was nothing Harry could do than to swallow his shame and put on some clothes (Muggle clothes, to Draco's enragement) and come downstairs with them, all the time self-consciously aware that Piper was eyeing him with great approval. When they walked into the parlour, however, he cleared his throat somewhat uncomfortably and greeted Snape in a quite formal manner. Draco did no such thing. He just went straight up to his uncle and crossed his arms over his semi-bare chest. "This better be good, you just interrupted something exceptionally precious to me," he snarled, his lip curled threateningly.

Snape raised an eyebrow in mockery and scorn. "You were trading bookmarks, Draco? How very adorable."

Draco snorted. "Your intimidating techniques don't work on me. Now tell me what you want and _leave_."

The Potions master sneered at him. Then he turned his black eyes on Harry. "Dumbledore wants you back in the Order, Potter," he informed in a drawling voice.

Harry blinked sheepishly at him. "What?"

Snape gave him a disliking look, as if he was nothing but leftovers from a night of frog dissection. "You have three days to consider it, Potter, then Dumbledore wishes to see you in his office at Hogwarts. You have officially been offered the position as Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher."

So, that was why he was looking at him like that? "But I'm not a teacher!" Harry protested. "I'm a Quidditch player! How am I supposed to—"

But Snape gave him no time to finish his question; he Disapparated without another word.

Harry was left standing there with his mouth hanging open and his eyes wide with shock and lack of understanding. Getting envolved in the Order again meant putting his entire family in danger – he never wanted to do that again. But bearing Pywercaseley's deranged behaviour in mind... he really could not say that they were not already in danger of their lives. And they had a new, improved force field around the Manor. Being a part of the Order again might actually do him well. What with his talent for Defense Magic and his knowledge as an Auror, he might actually be an asset to both the Order and Hogwarts. Therefore, when he turned to his lover, Draco already knew what he was going to say. "I think I'm gonna do it."

Draco just nodded. "You have my support – you know that. As long as you're happy you can do anything but sleeping around and killing innocent people in your sleep," he joked.

Harry laughed and scooped him up into his arms. "Anything but that? Sure you won't regret just saying that?" The blonde laughed and intended to tell him just what he thought of Harry's kinky, obscene streak when little Shizuka came into the room calling for their son.

"Jeemuzu?" she squeaked. "Jeemuzu? Doko itta?" (James? Where did you go?)

Draco blinked down at the small girl. "What did she just say about James?" he asked Piper.

He figured the children must be playing some sort of game, and that's why Shizuka seemed to be looking for James, but when Piper asked her daughter about it, the only response she got was a single word: "Nakushita!" Piper stiffened. Her face grew pale – a greyish pale that betrayed her terror and anxiety. It was starting to unnerve Draco. "What? What did she say?" he asked, desperately clutching Piper's magenta robes. "Where is he?"

"Nakushita... 'Disappeared'. He's gone."

"_What?_ But there's only two days left until the wedding!" He shook her violently as if to punish her.

"I know, but I'm afraid I can't do much about that, laddie..."

And neither could anyone else, it seemed. The boy was just gone. He did not seem to care that his parents' wedding was coming up – let alone care that his own fifth birthday was swiftly approaching – and he did not return regardless of their efforts to contact him. The arm with his name on the grandfather clock in the parlour had spun like crazy for about three hours after his disappearance before finally breaking and flying across the room. Judging by that incident, James was nowhere plottable. Draco was in total distress. "We can't get married without him!" he blubbered into Harry's dress robes five minutes before the ceremony was about to start. "It's not fair! I was really looking forward to this, it was going to be the best day of my life – and then he had to go and disappear again! I tell you, when I get my hands on that kid... Oh, if he could've just popped in for the wedding at least... then he could've disappeared all he wanted – but _now_!" He blew his nose loudly.

Someone tugged at his midnight-blue dress robes. "I came as you asked me to, Daddy. I'm here now."

At first Draco did not understand what happened, but his relief at seeing the boy alive got the better of him and he scooped the boy up into his arms and whirled around with him for a few happy moments. "Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you!" he repeated over and over again, kissing the boy's cheek until it got all red and wet. Finally they could get on with the ceremony. When they came to the part where they were supposed to decide upon who should take whose name, the row that had been on-going for a month temporarily made them yell at each other while the majority of the guests shook their heads in resignation. Ultimately Harry gave in. If Draco would not be a Potter, then all right, Harry could be a Malfoy. But he insisted on keeping Potter as a middlename, and argued that they should do the same with the children, whom were both baptised Potter.

With that settled, they could finally finish the ceremony and end it with the traditional kiss. Applause and jubilant cheers came from the guests, and many rushed forward to greet them with hugs and kisses. Harry was the happiest man alive. Draco was his now – for real. They were for ever bound to each other by holy vows, and it felt brilliant. But another part of him was undeniably and inevitably hollow and sad. Hermione had missed his wedding. This was the first time since her death that he actually missed her, and he realised that he did not hate her at all. Fighting back tears, he admitted to himself that he would have wanted nothing more than to have her there on his wedding, his best friend... But she was dead and could not be there.

And another thing weighed down his heart. As soon as the ceremony was over, James cordially announced that he was returning to wherever he had been before materialising at Draco's request, and half a minute later he had succeeded to force a loud hiccup. His heart sinking, he looked at the spot on which the small boy had been standing. He had a nasty feeling he would never see him again.

_(To be continued...)_

"Mada, watashi wa hanarenai kara... saa, dakishimete."

* * *

**_Hey guys! :D Here's the next chappie! Three years have passed, but they could only be granted so much time of peace and quiet before things started happening again... (shakes head in resignation) I really hope you'll all be able to enjoy the "Parallel Universe" suite as much as all my previous chapters! I am eternally grateful for all the lovely comments/reviews you have written to me, mates. :) Arigatou!_**

**_Love, Piper_**


	44. PU part two: A painful loss

**Rating:** PG-17/mpreg

**Pairing:** H/D

**Disclaimer:** All the characters belong to J.K. Rowling, except for my creations Piper, James, Joz, the Sakanoues, the Forgettes, Jonathan Kelly, and Timothy.

**Disclaimer II:** The nickname "Dracums" belongs to Golden.

**A/N:** Tense confusion! I would just like to remind you all that the passages featuring Timothy's future is written in the present tense and _not_ the past tense as is the rest of the story!

* * *

**Parallel Universe, part two:  
A painful loss**

"What are we going to do about James?" Draco asked in despair when the boy had been gone for more than five days. "According to the bloody clock he's not travelling, he's not in the past, he's not in the future... he's not even bloody lost!"

Harry pulled the blonde closer into his arms to soothe him. "It'll be all right," he murmured reassuringly, "we'll find him. We always do. We just have to figure out where to look, that's all."

"But how are we supposed to do that?! He could be anywhere, Harry! He could even be in another era, for fuck's sake! That boy has no regards for time whatsoever! He's a bloody danger to himself, and he... and he..." The blonde whimpered and put his hand in his mouth. He tried his best to fight back the tears, but they stubbornly streamed down his cheeks and left wet stains down his front.

Harry was starting to feel frustrated. There was nothing he could do or say to make Draco feel better, and that made him feel so useless. They were even married now! He had to look out for his husband!

Then, all of a sudden, the blonde flew up from the couch in a fit of excitement. "I know!" he yelled, and sounded as if he could not believe that he had not thought of this sooner. "We have to call Joseph!"

Harry frowned. "Joseph?" he repeated and peered up into Draco's still-flat belly. A mocking smile came to his lips without his control. "Isn't it time we give him a name of his own?"

The blonde blinked. "Huh?" He looked down at himself. "Why are you staring at my stomach like that? Have I spilt something on my robes?"

"No. Don't you see? That must be the blond boy in there, and seeing as we named our daughter Josephine it seems kind of stupid to name our next son Joseph, doesn't it?"

Draco gave a small start. "Oh, you're right. Yeah, this time it must be him, right? And no, I guess we can't call him Joseph... And I guess we never did. Do you remember how taken aback he was when we said we'd named him Joseph? Said, 'no, you never named me that', remember?"

"Yeah, I remember. What do you want with Joseph? I mean... the boy?"

Draco sat down next to him again. "He told me he's some sort of Time Manipulator – can manipulate time any way he wants _anytime_ he wants. So if we could get him to come here, he could probably find James for us." He explained what the blond boy had said when Draco had wished Blaise back to life three years previous. And if he was right, the mysterious blond boy could move through time as he wished – which meant that he also should be able to hear them calling him regardless of the amount of years separating them from each other.

But they still were not sure he'd come; not after that incident three years back... The boy had clearly said that he would not return because of the shame he had drawn upon himself by trying to kill his own father. He had actually confirmed their theory back then; he _was_ their son. Shaken by what he had been about to do, he had (oblivious of it himself) said "I'm so sorry, father".

Neither of them held it against him – he had been under 'her' control, whoever 'she' was. Maybe they would never know who 'she' was. Maybe they would never even know what was happening to their son in the future, or why.

Bearing all that in mind, they did not really expect him to come when they made their attempt at calling him, therefore they were extremely baffled when he immediately answered.

"Is there something in particular you need assistance with since you're calling me specifically?" his low, melodious, and slightly melancholy voice asked behind them.

They both turned in surprise.

"Jo— You! Boy! Whoever! Hey!" Draco said, sounding embarrassedly confused and stupid.

The boy actually smiled. It was the first genuine, humorous smile they had seen on his lips, and it warmed them immensely. "You can call me Tim," he offered in a friendly manner.

"Tim?" Harry echoed. "Is that what we—"

"It's short for Time Manipulator," he explained, and interrupted him. "I'm afraid I can't reveal my real name because that could cause a major disturbance in the time continuum. You're not supposed to know until the day you name me yourselves."

It felt strangely awkward to hear him talking about them as fathers and son; they were not used to it yet. The mystery about him sort of lifted when they knew for sure who he was, and he was reduced to a normal teenage boy. Which was kind of dull, actually. Harry would have liked to have a special child. But maybe you could call a son who vanished as a result of the hiccups and a daughter who possessed powers so intimidating she had to be locked up for her entire life sort of special...

"James is missing," Draco informed the boy. "We got a Location Clock just to be able to keep tabs on him, but it just broke when he went... wherever he went this time. He came back for our wedding, but then he left again. Said he'd found a much more fun place to play at. We hoped you could help us, er... Tim." Draco blushed.

The boy studied them for a few ominous seconds, and then he nodded solemnly. "I'll do my best to find him. You have my word." Harry half expected him to leave, but instead he closed his eyes and got an expression of utmost concentration on his face. After only a minute or so, he opened his startlingly green eyes again. A new level of anxiety was reflected in them. "I can't sense him anywhere."

Harry frowned. "What d'you mean?"

Tim seemed reluctant to elaborate. But ultimately he sighed and lowered his gaze. "I can't sense him anywhere. Not here, not in the past, not in the future... I can sense all living beings in this world and the worlds beyond. But I cannot sense James anywhere."

Draco gasped in terror. "Does that mean he's dead?!" he shrieked, panicking.

Tim swiftly shook his head. "No, if he was dead somewhere I would have sensed so. When someone's time ends it gives off a special vibration. I can detect no such vibration when I think of James. He's still alive somewhere – I just don't know where. I will need more time to find him. I'll get back to you as soon as I know." He went back to his time before they could object.

* * *

It felt weird to be in Dumbledore's office again – not to mention how weird it felt being there as a teacher-to-be! But paradoxical and unthinkable as it seemed, he was willing to give it a try. He had already tried quite a few things; studies, being an Auror, playing professional Quidditch, being pregnant, being Draco... But Quidditch was one thing he would never give up; he loved Quidditch, and it was the only thing he was really good at. Not even a job as a teacher could stop him from flying.

Dumbledore smiled fatherly at him when he sat down opposite him in front of his desk. "How are you these days, Harry?" he asked with a twinkle in his eyes.

Harry felt a lot more comfortable now that Dumbledore had spoken to him, and leant back slightly in his seat. "I'm fine, thank you, Professor," he replied automatically.

The old Headmaster smiled even more broadly at his words. "There now, Harry, you really don't have to address me like your Headmaster anymore – you are a teacher now," he reminded him.

"Right. Sorry... Mr Dumbledore."

"Albus is fine."

"No, I think I'll stick with Dumbledore, if you don't mind."

"Of course not."

Harry told him that he had decided to accept the position as Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher at Hogwarts, and that he was willing to step back into the Order of the Pheonix. Apparently Dumbledore wanted him to be stationed at Hogwarts and use his knowledge about the Dark Arts, Defense Magic, Pywercaseley, and the old Percy Weasley to protect the witches and wizards attending the school. The Order needed more people inside Hogwarts since the Dark Lord seemed to have made the school one of his main targets. There had been no attack for the past two years, but they all knew Hogwarts had it coming; Pywercaseley needed to strip the magical world of its greatest asset, namely the next generation of talented Aurors and whatnot.

When their meeting was coming to an end, Dumbledore rose from his seat to shake Harry's hand. "Then I'll tell everyone that Harry Potter will be coming back to Hogwarts to teach," he said. "The students will be most pleased, I'd say."

Harry cleared his throat and stared down at his trainers rather awkwardly. "Er, Harry _Malfoy_, Dumbledore," he corrected him. "Draco is rather fanatic about this, so... I would appreciate it if you..."

"Certainly, Harry. I will make all the necessary arrangements. See you on September 1."

When Harry went back home to Draco, it was with mixed feelings. Sure, he loved the thought of returning to Hogwarts – the first place he had ever considered to be 'home' – but to return on such ominous pretenses... Any time an attack could be anticipated, and the thought of always putting himself in imminent danger... of always forcing his family to face the very veritable risk of losing him... It all seemed so selfish. However, Draco made him re-think this. Harry was more than happy to have the blonde by his side, because he could always calm him when he felt agitated.

The only thing that would have made it even better was if James had returned home during his meeting with Dumbledore, but the nursery still was silent and deserted.

He sighed with resignation and, head hung low, walked back down the stairs to the parlour where he knew Draco would be. Ready to soothe his lover once again, he stepped inside the archway and—

"Harryyyyyyy!"

Shrieking in joy and exhilaration, the blonde threw himself around the baffled Harry's neck.

"Guess what guess what guess what?!" he fired at him with glistening white teeth.

Harry was reminded of vampire fangs. "No, what?"

"We can take Joz home for a trial year! They're letting us have her here with us! They've been working on a cure for the Masamadie for centuries, but not until now have they made progress! They've actually produced some sort of potion that slows the development of the disease, and it's working perfectly on Joz! They're ready to give her a chance to have a normal life with her family! Isn't it fantastic? Isn't it marvellous?!" He laughed boyishly and danced around with Harry on the spot.

Harry was numb with surprise. "Er... yeah. Sure... great."

"Oh, come on! You can do better than that!" Draco admonished and slapped his face. "This is our daughter we're talking about! She's coming _home_, Harry! Oooh, I am so happy..."

Harry slowly closed his arms around Draco's upper body. "I'm happy, too, baby. I'm happy too."

* * *

"Can you find him?" Jonas asks in his sexy American accent while Timothy is trying to sense his big brother's 2010 self.

"No. I can sense a lot of Jameses and a lot of Toms, but not the James of that year... strange." He opens his eyes again to look at his father. "I'm sorry, Harry."

Harry shrugs. "I'm not worried. We got him back eventually, didn't we?" He studies the blond boy for a while. "You sure you don't wish me to tell you where he is?"

"No. I am meant to do this search on my own. It's not fair that you already know the answer because you've already lived through that particular time. I'm not born yet, remember?"

Several years has passed in the time of the past Harry and Draco, and they have recently celebrated their wedding, but in Timothy's time only five minutes have passed since The Other finally found him. He was called down to 2010 before he could establish any kind of bond with his soulmate. Now he longs to get acquainted not only to Jonas's wits and intelligence, but to his body. The urges of a sixteen-year-old boy are not to be denied.

Harry seems to sense his eagerness to forget about the task he has been given and resort to other pastimes. He smiles faintly. "Go ahead. You can indulge in an evening of fun now and then, you know. You two must be dying to talk right now, what with your lifelong search and everything... James will still be there in the morning."

Timothy frowns in concern for his father. "You sure you'll be okay? I mean, I just killed Joz..."

"Ah, don't think about it. It was inevitable, right? Besides, you told me they've already discovered her abnormality in that new past you're creating. In this time, I didn't even know twenty-one years _after_ that. Things'll be all right. The past is changing. So, please... Go on."

Timothy nods. With one glance at Jonas, he says, "Then we're going to bed." His hunger is plain to read on his face, he is sure, and his heart is pounding painfully against his ribcage. In a moment he will feel The Other's skin on his...

Harry clears his throat rather awkwardly. "Er... shouldn't you get to know each other first...?"

He has interpreted the tension between the two young boys correctly, and it acually makes Timothy blush. It is quite embarrassing that his father knows about his sexual lust... But he cannot ignore it any longer – it is too strong. He swiftly shakes his head. "No. We don't need to get to know each other – we already know everything we need to know. And we love each other."

Jonas smiles in a most affectionate way. "You bet we do, darling. Here, take my hand."

Being escorted to bed by such an American gentleman makes Timothy's young heart flutter.

* * *

Having their little girl at the Manor was actually the best thing that could've ever happened to them, and they both loved every second of it. But their concern and anxiety for James just kept growing for each week that passed without a single sign of him. And there had been no new visits from Tim; the boy did not even answer their calls anymore. Now three months had gone since James went missing, it was July and both Harry's 23rd birthday and the start of the new school year was approaching at breakneck speed.

Someone else was showing up on a regular basis, though... always to Draco's utter wrath...

"What is that bitch always doing here?" he confronted Harry with one morning.

"Stop calling her a bitch! She's my friend, and I do spend time with my friends, thank you."

"I haven't seen you spending as much time with Ron, and he's your _best_ friend," Draco pointed out suspiciously. "Why d'you always shut yourself in some room and won't let me join you? What are you doing in there, anyway?" The raven-haired man's lies about having slept with Cho were painfully pressing on his memory.

Harry pushed him away, offended. "What are you implying now? We're not doing anything fishy... We're just hanging out like friends do."

The blonde's eyes narrowed into slits. "Doing what?" he prodded.

"Nothing, we just... have tea and stuff. Talk."

"Talk? You talk?"

"I'm gay, Draco, stop asking me 20 bloody questions. You should be more worried about Ron than Cho."

"Ron's married."

"So am I. Why don't you trust me?"

"I trust you, but I don't trust _her_. She's doing something to you."

"Hardly. Now get out of my way, I have business to attend to."

"Not until you've answered my questions." He grabbed hold of Harry's sleeve and pulled him back when he tried to slip away into the kitchen. Gazing deep into his emerald eyes, he tried to discern the secrets that he shared with Cho Chang. And then he noticed something utterly different. Pulling back slightly, Draco raised his eyebrows in bafflement. "She's hexed you!"

Harry angrily jerked free of his grip. "She has not! It's just your imagination."

But the blonde firmly shook his head. "No, this isn't imaginary. I can see it in your eyes. She's put an Influencial Spell on you, Harry, that's why you're acting so weird."

"I'm _not_ acting weird!"

"No? Then why don't you believe me? Cho is trying to break us up, and she's been trying to do so for the past three years. Why can you not believe that? Tell me, have I ever lied to you? Have I ever tried to mislead you in any way? The answer is no, isn't it, Harry? I've always been honest with you, and yet you won't believe me. _Me_. I'm your husband, Harry. You're supposed to believe in me and trust me, but you never learn, do you? Do you remember when we first switched bodies? Do you remember what you did to me? Do you remember the outcome of your lack of trust in me? Do you wish to drive me away again? Do you wish me to go live with Snape again, is that it?" He paused to give Harry a chance to answer, but the raven-haired man just stood there, mute. Draco went on: "She was the one who poisoned me, Harry. She was the one who gave me the potion that brought out my other self, which means that she was ultimately responsible for both Slutty's and Blaise's deaths. She was the one who turned me into some sort of transsexual slut with make-up problems, and _she_ was the one who made me poison myself in hopes of killing Josephine. Harry... she's trying to break our family apart. Can't you see what she's doing to us?"

But that eerie glint that Draco had perceived in his green eyes would not go away. Instead of casting off the Influencial Spell, Harry simply shook his head in disbelief, and said, "You're just something, Draco. This jealousy is really starting to get silly."

"You're one to speak! You were jealous of Blaise while he was still dead!"

Someone cleared his throat. "Erm... excuse me."

They both stopped quarrelling and swirled around.

Tim was back, and his face was very solemn and his eyes even darker with sadness and melancholy than they usually were. "I'm sorry, but I have really bad news," he said, and a muscle near the right corner of his mouth twitched. His green eyes were strangely watery.

Draco gasped and clasped his hands over his mouth. "No! Don't tell me he's dead!"

"No, he is not dead, but he is in grave danger. I suggest that you both take a seat, this will probably boggle both your minds."

They asked the visiting Cho to go out to the kitchen and wait there. (She downright refused to leave, and the bewitched Harry did not mind her staying. Draco simply glared at her with black eyes.)

"Well, where is he?" Draco asked as they had all sat down in the parlour.

"He's taken refuge in one of the Parallel Universes," Tim informed them soberly, and awaited their reactions.

They blinked at him. "A parallel what?" Harry asked in bewilderment.

"A Parallel Universe. There are thousands, possibly millions, of parallel worlds co-existing in this now, worlds which we cannot see with mere eyes. Usually it is impossible to walk between the parallel worlds, but now and then a breach occurs. I cannot always sense them right away since they are so rare and I haven't yet learnt to recognise the specific vibrations of parallel breaches. I'm assigned to _this_ world and do not have authority over the other worlds. The Time Manipulator of that world contacted me and told me one of my charges had crossed over to his side."

Furthermore Tim tried his best to explain the phenomenon of Parallel Universes to them in as much layman terms as he could find. Obviously the force of time had been created to bind the different worlds together, but also to keep them separated from each other out of safety reasons. And what was more confusing was that each world looked exactly like the others. All the Parallel Universes were exactly like the world Harry and Draco were living in, and the people in it were the same as well.

"So you mean there are millions of other Harries and Dracos co-existing with us right now, but we can't see them?" Harry asked in fascination.

"Yes, they all exist together with us in this now, but they cannot be seen, no," Tim said, relieved that they understood so quickly.

Even though each and every parallel world was the same to their appearance and structure, they were all utterly different from each other. Some worlds had been known by certain names because they were extremes, worlds in which things had gone utterly wrong or worlds in which things had turned into a huge fluffy fairytale. The world they were living in, however, was one of the regular, neutral ones. A world in which good and evil were at a tie.

Apparently each of these worlds had their own Time Manipulators, whom were assigned to maintain the flow of time and prevent breaches. If ever there was a hole in the fabric of time, the Time Manipulator had to sew it shut as fast as he could. And Tim was now very urgent to find James and apply a fresh line of stitches.

"Why is it so important to find him?" Draco asked suspiciously. "Not that I don't want to find him or anything, but why is it so important _to you_?"

Tim's eyebrows were furrowed. "Because nothing came out when he went inside."

Harry blinked in confusion. "Wha'? Nothing came out? What kind of logic is that?"

"No, you don't understand... All the Parallel Universes are exactly alike when it comes to locations, sites, main historical events, and even the people that live in it. But some of them differ from the others, of course... Let's see it like this. In this world, you and Draco are a happy married couple, and you've been a couple for more than eight years now. When it comes to most of the parallel worlds, their Harries and Dracos are leading the exact same life as you blokes are. But in some of them, you never got married. You were perfectly happy with just being boyfriends. In a few of those worlds you got married much sooner – I bet many Dracos answered positively to the Harries' first proposal. In some worlds Harry never proposed at all. In yet other worlds, you are not even a couple. Do you see where I'm going? In this world, Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy have two children, but in many other _parallel_ worlds Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy have no children because they never became a couple in the first place. And my bet is that James wound up in one of those worlds."

Now Harry frowned. "What makes you think that?"

"Because there is a major rule when it comes to world crossing," Tim explained, "a rule which must be followed by everyone if time is to persist. When a person ventures into a parallel world his parallel equivalent will take his place in the world he leaves behind. To make it easier for you to understand: If James had gone into one of the worlds in which he exists, the James of that world would have emerged into _this_ world. And no other James came out, right?"

Both Draco and Harry numbly shook their heads. This was a lot info in one morning.

"That means that James must have materialised in one of the parallel worlds in which he does not exist," Tim concluded. "And that is why it's so urgent for him to return to his own world. He's meant to be here – he's an inhabitant of _this_ world. If he stays in that other world too long, there is a great risk of time collapsing. Everything might implode. His presence in the other world creates a major disturbance in the fabric of time, and he needs to be collected and brought back before that disturbance becomes too great to mend."

Draco and Harry exchanged a meaning look. They both rose to their feet.

"What do we need to do?" Harry asked solemnly.

Tim rose, too. "You have to go in and get him."

"You mean into that parallel world?" Draco wondered.

"Yes. I am sorry to say I don't know which world he has wound up in, I can't sense those sorts of things, all I can do is open the gate for you."

They nodded. "Right. Open it, then," Harry said with determination.

"But I have to warn you first: I can't guarantee your safety once you're inside that world, and I will not be able to go with you. Three Time Manipulators in one world meant for two is unthinkable; you will have to trust in my Parallel Self to help you with the briefing once you're there."

"All right," Harry said, already ready to leave.

But Draco had a few worries. "But what if _we_ don't exist in that time, either?" he asked. "Won't that create an even greater disturbance?"

"Yes, of course it would. But we won't know that until I open the gate. Only then will I be able to sense which world it is you are going to enter."

"And if we do exist in that world, our parallel selves will come into our world in our places?"

"Yes, you will switch places with one another," Tim confirmed, nodding slowly.

"But what if they're nothing like us? What will happen then?"

"You're asking all the right questions, Draco. I'm impressed that you've got the hang of this so quickly. Unfortunately I can't guarantee you that either. The Harry and the Draco that come out might be utterly different from you – they might even still be archenemies. It's impossible to predict their reactions when they're brought here. And unfortunately there are a few rules when it comes to world crossing besides that one I mentioned earlier... If one switches places with a Parallel Self one must resume the life of one's Parallel Self. Meaning that you have to act like the other Harry and Draco, adn they will have to act like you. You can under no circumstances let _anyone_ know that you come from another world. It is of utmost importance that the existence of the Parallel Universes stay unknown to the public. Do you understand?"

"Yes, I think so," Draco said. "I really hope we're trading with good parallel selves."

"Yeah, so do I," said Harry.

"But there is one other thing that concerns me," Draco admitted. "My pregnancy..."

Harry instantly understood what he meant. The Parallel Draco that he was about to switch with might not be pregnant, and since it was already starting to show quite a lot, both Dracos would find it hard to play one another.

"It will be really difficult for me to conceal my pregnancy if I'm supposed to play someone who's never had a child," he said anxiously.

"I know," Tim told him, "but I'm sure my Parallel Self will have it all figured out."

They prepared themselves to step into the unknown when something else hit Draco. "Oh no! Joz! Who's going to take care of Joz?"

The boy jerked visibly. "J-Joz?" he repeated. "Wha... what about her?"

"She's living at home with us now, the Healers have put her on some new miracle medicine that totally represses her abnormality. She's here on a trial year and she's been home for about three months now. We can't just leave her here with strangers!"

"But she'll have Piper," Harry put in. "Piper can look after her. She'll be a'right."

"I guess so..."

"Hang on, I'll go ask her."

"I'll come with you," Tim offered. "I need to talk to her about this. Piper will have to function as a sort of commander while you're gone. Your Parallel Selves might not be so willing to act like you guys, so we'll need someone here who can keep them in check. Auntie Piper's perfect for that."

They left Draco alone in the parlour. Hardly a minute passed before Cho emerged from the kitchen, where she had obviously been eavesdropping on their conversation. He gave her a murderous look. "Tough luck, Draco," she said, and stood a couple feet in front of him. "Wanna bet you and Harry won't come back out as lovers?"

Draco's eyes narrowed. "Don't you try to work your black magic on us again or I'll kill you."

She laughed. "I'm not afraid of you. You don't have Dark Draco in you anymore. You're no threat to me – and Harry will be mine."

"He will not!" Draco shot up from the couch, all the anger and the frustration stored up inside him for the past three years suddenly surfacing in a violent outbirst of sheer wrath, and hovered threateningly above her. "Harry is _mine_, and I will bloody Hell never let a little bitch like you steal him away from me!"

She cocked her head. "No? That's weird, because lately I've been spending more time with him than you have, 'ickle Drakie." She moved closer and whispered: "Seems as if he's already mine."

Draco was shuddering with fury. Had he been a manga figure, he would have had multiple veinpops by then. "Oh, yeah? You think you own my Harry? You think you've got him in your pocket? Then tell me, how many times has Harry been hit with the death curse?" Suddenly he felt competitive and challenged Cho for a Who-Knows-More-About-Harry-Potter contest.

She smirked self-righteously. "Only once, silly. You can only survive it once – or, well, never really, but he did once."

Draco laughed cruelly. "No, he's actually survived it four times by now, and he gets stronger every time he's hit with it. Why did Harry become a Potion Maker?"

"Because he hates to see people poisoned and wants to dig into the depths of new antidotes."

"Wrong answer. Harry never became a Potion Maker, he became an Auror."

"An easy mistake. All right, hit me with another one."

"What kind of underwear does Harry wear? Boxers or briefs?"

There was a slight pause. "Boxers."

"Wrong answer again – Harry doesn't wear any underwear at all."

"He doesn't?"

_Shit!_ he thought. _Now I just added to her twisted fantasies!_

"Oh, fuck these games!" she said violently and pushed him aside. "We don't need to play games to know who'll end up with Harry. It'll be me, because I can manipulate him like your little friend can manipulate time, I have him in my grasp, ickle Drakie-bums. You said it yourself – he's under _my_ spell. No matter what you do, no matter what you tell him, he will never believe you, and the more you try to convince him that I'm a bitch the further away you're going to push him. Eventually he'll distrust every single word you're saying, and sooner rather than later he'll be mine."

The further along Cho came in her monologue, the angrier Draco got. He was beyond mere fury. But now other feelings started to surface, too. The fear and the anxiety that he'd been experiencing ever since he first began to suspect that Cho was the villain, but something else too; he was starting to get a real bad tummy-ache. Not completely unlike the feeling he'd had when Tom had been doing loads of evil stuff. And there was this wet, sticky feeling originating from somewhere around his crotch... Slowly he lowered his gaze to see what this new, strange feeling could be.

Blood. And lots of it. Erupting from his privates, colouring his light grey robes a dark wine-red-black-purple. A sudden cramp made him cry out loud and double over, his hands on his stomach. He felt as if something was breaking inside of him – as if he was dying.

"My baby... my baby..." He forced himself to lock gazes with Cho, the bloody wench who was successively taking his family away from him, forced himself to stare into her swiftly paling face. "What have you done?" he hissed accusatory. "What the fuck have you done?"

Her eyes were wide with terror at what she had caused.

He did not stay to let her destroy anything else; he slammed the back door open and ran out into the garden.

* * *

Tim lay his hand on Harry's shoulder. Harry looked up at him in surprise. This was the first physical contact the boy had made in the five years or so they had known each other. "You need to be with Draco now," he said with a voice thick with emotion and eyes so sad that Harry's heart skipped a beat.

"What? Why?" he asked in lack of understanding.

The sympathy in Tim's green eyes was disturbing and unnerving. "Because your baby's time is swiftly running out," he said in honesty, "and I think he needs you now."

"What?!" Harry whispered, panic rising within him. Not paying any attention to the currently breastfeeding Piper with a million confused questions, Harry ran down to the parlour where he had left Draco, but the only person he found there was Cho. She was standing utterly still in the middle of the floor, her face pale grey and her eyes wide with shock. "Where's Draco?" he asked anxiously. She did not answer, so he intended to walk over to her and lightly grab her arm—

He stepped in something warm and sticky and looked down. His white sock was swiftly turning red, and the fluid it was absorbing was hardly juice. Shocked and disgusted, he took a step back. A tiny puddle of blood was on the floor. "Draco?" he breathed. "Draco's bleeding?" He looked up at Cho. "Why are you just standing there? Why didn't you call me? Why didn't you _help_ him?"

Instead of answering she turned on her heel and ran out of the open back door. Fifty yards away, she Disapparated. Harry could not understand why. "Why did she just run off like that?"

"Because in a way, her time is also running out," Tim informed him. Then he pointed at a blood trace on the floor. "I think you might want to follow that. If you don't find him soon he'll bleed to death. A miscarriage doesn't mend itself."

Harry gasped and twitched. Miscarriage?!

"Oh no, Draco..." He ran out into the garden, not caring to look where he put his foot down, only relying on his instinct to bring him to Draco – and fast! If Draco had indeed had a miscarriage... and if it was true that it just kept bleeding and that the mother was in grave danger of bleeding to death... "_DRACOOO_!" He had to find him. He could not bear losing him now, not this soon, they had only had eight years together... He could not... "_DRACOOO_!"

The blonde was down by the lake, face down on the shore, his right cheek to the rough sand. He was bleeding badly from his nether regions, and he was holding his hands to his stomach as if trying to imprison the baby. His face was whiter than white, a sick alabaster white, and he seemed to be on the verge of losing consciousness.

Harry threw himself down beside him. "Draco! My God, Draco! We have to get you out of here!"

"The baby...," Draco whispered faintly, silent tears streaming down his semi-catatonic face, "...my baby..." Harry tried to hush him as he simultaneously put his arms around him with the intention to Apparate them both out of there. "...I killed him..."

Harry froze. "What? No! No, no! You didn't kill him, Draco, you didn't kill him at all..."

"I killed Tim," he persisted, and his eyes were strangely focused for the first time since Harry found him. "I killed him just like I killed Tom... just like I almost killed Joz... I'm a lousy father... I just keep killing my children... I'm not worth living..."

Harry held him close to his chest and brought them out of there. "That's not true, Dracums. He's alive. Tim's still alive – I just saw him. When I left him you had already had the miscarriage, and he was as solid as rock. I promise. You didn't kill him."

"I didn't?" Draco snivelled without believing him.

"Nurse!" Harry cried as they arrived at St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. "_Nurse_!" Draco was inconsolable when they finally got assistance from half a dozen Healers, whom successfully stopped the bleeding and conducted a magical blood transfusion, and when they told him that they weren't able to save the baby he wanted them to start the bleeding again. Harry tried his best to soothe and calm him, but this time it was practically impossible. Finally, he managed to pull the truth out of him, however. "Cho did it," Draco said grumpily. "She provoked me, said she'd steal you from me and manipulate you into disbeleving me even more than you already do, and then I started to bleed. _She_ did this to me, just like she did everything else. She killed our baby. I hate her 'cause she killed our baby." He began to cry uncontrollably again.

It was as if someone had struck Harry in the head with a blunt object. And then he had a sensation of a very heavy veil being lifted off his head, and suddenly he could see everything clearly. Suddenly every odd thing that had happened to them during the past three years made sense to him. "I believe you," he murmured. "I'm sorry I didn't believe you before, Dracums. I love you, and I'll do something about this Cho."

Fact is he intended to put an end to this madness right away. Since Draco was in no danger of bleeding to death anymore, he was released. Harry explained the plan to him on their way home. They would set a trap for Cho and catch her in the act once and for all. That way they would probably land her in Azkaban. It was very serious to attempt murder on another witch or wizard, and Cho had done so much more than that. When they came back to the Manor Draco placed himself on the couch, playing weak and sickly after his visit to the hospital. Harry made the thumbs-up sign to him and threw a handful of Floo Powder into the fireplace. Then he called, "Cho! Could you please come here a second? I would like you to witness me breaking Draco's heart so we can be together, love!"

Draco winced. Harry shrugged. He did not like the sound of that, either, but he had to say it in order to lure her there. She arrived almost immediately, and the expression on her face told them both that she had a "Told you so!" on her tongue. Harry swept her into his arms and looked her deep into the eyes. "Wanna see me break him?" he asked, winking knowingly at her.

"No, allow me," she said, and directed her wand at Draco. "Cruci—"

Harry reacted instantly and strictly instinctively: "Avada Kedavra!"

She was dead long before she could finish her curse.

Tim appeared in the doorway from the adjoining den. He had Piper in tow. "Are you ready to go?" he asked ceremoniously. They both nodded. "Good. Then I'll open the gate. Piper will take care of that corpse for you. She will also function as a commanding officer at the Manor while you're gone." He made a sweeping movement in the air, and a large oval disc appeared in front of him. As soon as it had opened his features darkened. "Oh no," he said.

"What? What's wrong?" Harry asked.

"It's... It's the Dark Plane," Tim said somewhat uncomfortably. He met their eyes. "In the Dark Plane, everything that could possibly go wrong has gone wrong. Maybe you would like to reconsi—"

"No, we'll go," Draco said firmly. "We're going to get James back no matter what."

They went inside before anyone else could start making objections. And when they went in, the others came out...

_(To be continued...)_

"Mada, watashi wa hanarenai kara... saa, dakishimete"

* * *

**_Gaah! Had to get one more out before going to bed tonight! XD Man, I really love this development... ooohh, and I can't wait for you to be acquainted with the Parallel Harry and the Parallel Draco...! X3 And to see what the Dark Plane is like too, of course, because quite a few things are different there, I tell you... ;P Jya, mata ashita!_**

**_Love, Piper_**


	45. PU part three: The Dark Plane

**Rating:** PG-17

**Pairing:** H/D

**Disclaimer:** All the characters belong to J.K. Rowling, except for my creations Piper, James, Joz, Timothy, Jonathan Kelly, Jonas, and Yousuke Sakanoue.

**Disclaimer II:** The nickname "Dracums" belongs to my friend Golden.

**A/N:** For those of you who don't know English measurements, I'll give you a small help... 1 foot is 30,4 cm and 1 inch is 2,54 cm. Now you do the maths. ;)

* * *

**Parallel Universe, part three  
The Dark Plane**

They had expected to emerge into the same room that they had entered by, but to their surprise they found themselves in an empty, white-walled strange room that neither of them had ever seen before. What was even more surprising was that there seemed to be no doors and no windows to exit by. Draco took Harry's hand and squeezed it for support. "Where are we?"

"I dunno," Harry said, inspecting the walls in search of a hidden door or suchlike. "But the question I would like answered is how the fuck we get out of here."

"I think I can answer that for you," said a low voice behind them.

Jumping, they both swirled around to face their possible adversary.

It was Tim. Apparently the Time Manipulator of the Dark Plane had a slightly different taste than the Tim they knew, because this replica did not wear green to compliment his deep green eyes. Dressed all in black – black wizards' trousers with the obligatory oblong pocket for the wand, black dragon hide boots, some sort of black robes, and a black cloak – he looked almost like the Angel of Death himself. His eyes were darker somehow... perhaps because of the toughness that one surely must possess to survive in this world.

Draco took a trembling step towards him, his hand half stretched out to the boy. "Tim?" he asked in disbelief.

The boy's eyes narrowed into a stare of utmost hostility. "I prefer to be called Bond, please," he hissed. Harry wondered if maybe he had inherited his ability to talk to snakes.

"Bond?" Draco repeated and looked as if he was about to laugh.

Harry quickly stepped on his foot. "Bond it is, then," he said urgently, although he found that nickname – or title or whatever it was – very baffling and bewildering. "Er... how do we get out of here? We need to find James..."

For a few unsettling moments, the blond boy just stared at them. Harry could not get over how very different he was from the Tim they knew, how very dark his whole persona seemed to be... He did not exactly reek of evil, but it was as close as anyone could get without stepping over to the other side. His aura was dark, very dark, but at least he seemed to be a good wizard.

"This is the arrival room," Bond explained with visible impatience. "This is where you wind up when you enter another world. I will let you out as soon as I've briefed you. You need to be prepared for the lives you're going to lead during your time here, and we don't have time for twenty questions. Are we clear?" He eyed them with great dislike. He did not seem to be very fond of visitors from the outside.

"Yeah, we're clear," Harry and Draco said in unison.

Bond shifted his feet. "Good. I need you to forget about your sorry lives in your 'better world' right now and focus on the information I give you. The Dark Plane is a very dangerous place for people like you, and you do not want to be caught off guard. Do you understand me?"

They both nodded vigourously.

"Draco," the boy said turned to the blonde, "you need a different look." With an elegant flick of his left wrist, the boy had changed Draco's appearance completely. His blond hair had been cut extremely short, almost cropped, and his old midnight-blue favourite robes had been traded for brand new deep green robes that almost appeared black at first sight. Harry could see that they were made from the finest of fabrics – Malfoy standard. His wand was different, as well. Willow, twelve-and-a-half inches, probably containing a single hair from the tail of a unicorn... Maybe his old one had broke in a duel. "There," Bond said, pleased with his work, "now you at least look like your dark equivalent."

"Da-dark equivalent?" Draco stuttered.

Harry guessed that he recollected the six months during which another Draco had resided within him.

The boy boldly met his grey eyes. "Yes. You need to get in touch with your Malfoy genes again, 'father', because you're going to need them. You are working directly under Voldemort—"

Draco flinched. "Voldemort?!" he breathed in astonishment.

Bond sighed impatiently. "I thought I told you – no questions allowed," he admonished. "But yes, Voldemort is very much alive in this universe. I heard you managed to kill him in your world, but here you figure as his right hand. I think Wormtail had that position in your world, hadn't he? Well, he's dead here and has been for the past twenty-two years. Nor does young Mr Crouch have any desirable position in Voldemort's army, he's merely one of the regular Death Eaters. And I guess I ought to tell you that the Death Eaters are much more numerous here, and they have greater resources. Here they are at war with the good witches and wizards that stand by the Ministry's side, and Draco is their general. So you see why you need to keep your head cold, because one little mistake will be all it takes to assure you a painful execution."

Harry did not like the way the boy was talking to Draco, and apparently neither did Draco. But instead of defending himself by spitting out a few swear words à la Malfoy, he shrank and cowered by Harry's side.

Bond turned his attention to Harry. Draco's part of the briefing was obviously over. "Now, Potter... We need to shape up your appearances as well. First we need to get rid of that nasty scar your've got." He pulled out his wand and prepared to use a spell on Harry's forehead.

But Harry grabbed his arm to stop him. "Excuse me, _remove_ the scar?"

Bond shook his hand off, affronted. "Don't you dare touch me again," he warned, and Harry did not doubt that this was an honest threat. "Yes, _remove_ the scar, what did you think? Your Parallel Self has no scar, you imbecile."

He sounded awfully like Snape.

Draco blinked. "But... he got that scar when Voldemort hit him with the death curse..."

That statement temporarily made Bond taken aback. "Death curse?" he echoed. "Harry never got hit with the death curse – no-one has ever survived that, it's impossible!"

"Not in our world," Draco objected, "and my Harry's survived it four times."

This astonished the young Time Manipulator even more. "Four times? Impossible..." He stared at Harry for the longest time. Then he cleared his throat. "Could you explain to me what happened, please? Maybe it will help me understand the differences between our worlds better and help me give you a more accurate briefing."

Harry told him about the night that everyone in their world knew about – the night when his life had been for ever changed without his knowledge and without his consent. He told him how Wormtail had betrayed his parents and how that had led to the deaths of fourteen people. He also told him about his years at Hogwarts, how he had relentlessly fought two Dark Lords for the better part of his life, how he and Draco had fallen in love and ultimately started a family, and even though it still hurt he told the boy about Sirius. His time in Azkaban Wizard's Prison, how Harry and Hermione had helped him escape, about his life at large, and finally about his death down in the Department of Mysteries. The entire story demanded forty agonising minutes of him.

When he fell silent, Bond was thoughtfully scratching his chin. "So that is how this Pywercaseley came to power in your world?" he stated. "Very well, I will tell you about our world, then. Voldemort did indeed seek out your parents because their old friend Wormtails betrayed them – that much is in accordance. But your parents never fought back, Harry – they gave themselves to Voldemort."

That was the last thing Harry had expected to hear. For several minutes, he was unable to speak or even move. Then, he said, "My parents are... dark wizards?"

"Yes, I am afraid so. They have served Voldemort devoutly ever since, and their intention was for you to walk in their footsteps. But when you went to Hogwarts, you changed. You wanted no part in it, and so you turned instead to Dumbledore and the Order of the Pheonix. So now you see why your Parallel Self has no scar. Voldemort never had to curse anyone that night and remained in full power. Wormtail, however... Just like in your world, Sirius sensed that something was wrong and came to check it out. He found Wormtail trying to persuade Lily and James to go with him, or at least that's what he thought he saw. In the belief that his best friends and his godson were in danger, he challenged Wormtail to a wizards duel. Sirius won. When he realised that James and Lily were of no intention to come with him, he took you with him and Disapparated. Went straight to Dumbledore seeking guidance and asking for protection."

Harry was completely mesmerised by Bond's story. "So what you mean to say is I was raised by Sirius?"

"In part, yes. Your parents found you when you were four and demanded Sirius to give you back to them. He refused. But they wouldn't give up, they kept searching for you until they found you again. You were six, and they took you away in your sleep. They raised you in Voldemort's midst until you were old enough to go to Hogwarts. Since there were no proof of Lily and James being Death Eaters and the Ministry was unwilling to believe Sirius no-one could refuse you a good education. At Hogwarts you met Ron and Hermione and realised that the world you had grown up in was no good place."

"So, I was in Gryffindor, then?" Harry stated. "I would have thought that I'd wind up in Slytherin with _that_ background..."

"You did," Bond confirmed.

Harry blinked. "What? But you just said—"

"That you met Ron and Hermione at Hogwarts, yes, but I didn't say you became best friends at first sight, did I?"

"But I assumed—"

"Don't assume too much. Harry Potter is a very confident man and never hesitates or assumes. You were in Slytherin, yes, and for two years you were best friends with Draco and his cronies—"

"Harry and I were _friends_?" Draco echoed in bafflement. "Right away?"

"Yes, for a brief two years you were quite close. But at the beginning of your third year, Harry was in detention together with Ron and had the best time of his life. When they started hanging out, and Harry started to get to know Ron's friends in Gryffindor House, Draco branded him a traitor and turned his entire house against him. Harry had to switch to Gryffindor to avoid being killed by his classmates. They made five very creative attempts..."

"But if that's our past in this world – how come you exist?" Harry asked in confusion. "I thought Draco and I were archenemies here – and that we would stay that way. So how can you exist?"

A faint smirk disfigured Bond's face. "I am a result of your interference in this world," he confessed. "It is true that I wouldn't have existed if you had stayed enemies for ever as was fated... But you two will stir up feelings that has long been buried, and in just three years I will be born."

"What are you talking about?" Draco asked. "I don't understand..."

"You want to find James, right?" Bond interrupted. "If you want to find him, you have to pretend to be your Parallel Selves, but you will also have to find a way to work together. In this world you are enemies. So how can you successfully make everyone else believe that you've stopped hating each other?"

Harry and Draco exchanged a bewildered look. Yeah, how?

Bond crossed his arms over his chest. "The answer is simple. All you need to do is decide upon a rendez-vous point where you will both be at a certain time, bring witnesses, start a major fight, and end it like friends. That's all you need to do. I suggest that you take a few minutes to think out a plan, because I'm going to send you off real soon, and then you're going to need a bloody good plan. Good luck, dear 'fathers'. I will be watching the entertainment."

* * *

It was so cool. They looked exactly like Harry and Draco – and yet they looked nothing like them. Piper could not stop staring at them. Harry, whom she knew to love Muggle clothes, looked as if he had never gone near a Muggle in his life. He was wearing magenta robes at the moment, and he wore his hair differently. It was not as... tousled. It was actually rather neat. And another thing about him was that he had no scar. The trademark that had made him famous all over the magical world had apparently never appeared on his forehead in the Dark Plane.

Parallel Draco looked just like her Draco with a few exceptions. His hair was shorter and bristlier, and he was slightly thinner. Otherwise she would not have noticed any difference between him and her "real" brother.

At first they seemed too shocked at finding themselves in a strange parlour to register anyone else in the room, but when they grew aware of each other their reactions were quicker than lightning.

"Kamilossato!" Harry yelled.

"Furnuncula!" Draco belched at the same time.

Their jinxes collided in midair and bounced off in opposite directions. Draco's boil-sprouting jinx hit a ceramic pot containing fresh summer flowers and broke it in halves while Harry's Hairloss Spell kept bouncing off the walls and the ceiling before finally hitting one-month-old Yamato in Piper's arms. The small boy began to scream at an earsplitting volume. "Great," Piper moaned, "now I have a bald baby!" She hushed and soothed and carefully caressed the screaming baby's scorched head. When she had successfully managed to quieten her next-to-youngest son and magicked his hair back with a Reversal Spell, she looked up at the two young men. "At least you didn't scream 'Avada Kedavra' at each other – that could've been nasty!"

They seemed to spot her for the first time, and they both reflected different degrees of astonishment and confusion. "Piper?" they both said with great surprise.

"Ha! You know who I am! Good, then I won't have to introduce myself!" she said sarcastically.

Parallel Draco stared at the twin boys in Piper's arms. "Where'd you find the babies?" He surveyed the room. "And who refurnished?"

Piper tilted her head slightly to the left. "No-one's refurnished," she told him. "You're in a parallel universe in the places of the Draco and the Harry of _this_ world. Oh, and the babies are mine, thank you. Well, except for that one. She's yours." She pointed at Joz, who was sitting on the floor at her feet.

"Excuse me?!" Draco shrieked indignantly.

Piper started. "Oh, yeah... that reminds me... Incarcerous Totilae!"

Heavy steel chains burst from her wand and wrapped themselves around both men.

"What the fuck are you doing?!" Draco yelled, his face blood-red with fury. "Release me immediately or I will report this to your superiours!"

Piper raised an eyebrow in amusement. "My superiours, eh? You're not in your world anymore, and I'm not evil. I take orders from no-one, and I will not release you until I've explain the situation to you both. And don't you try anything because it won't be worth it. Accio wands." She pocketed their wands. "Now, listen carefully. Oh, shut up you whiny old kiss-arse. Gaggolus!"

Draco was gagged before he could start to protest.

Harry grinned gleefully at him. "Shut you up," he said brightly.

"Ahh, Potter... that's a yellow card for you. Gaggolus!"

And with them both bound and gagged, she began to recount the reason they were both there.

* * *

It felt weirder than weird to be amongst Death Eaters again, and he walked around with a perpetual lump in his throat and cold sweat running down his spine, nervous about being caught as an imposter. He could only too vividly imagine what they would do to him if they found out he was not the right Draco Malfoy. Harry and he had agreed to give it two days before they began their elaborate drama and the act that would "bring them together". Only two days to figure out his part and get familiar with everything in this strange, dark world. Two days was nothing.

Draco was actually a bit surprised to learn that the Malfoy Manor was their Headquarters, but then again his father had always been quick to suck up to the Dark Lord. Many times he was close to reveal himself when he met people that he knew to be dead, but who were not dead in this world. When he bumped into Blaise Zabini in one of the hallways in the Manor he was temporarily struck mute and paralysed by guilt and fright. For a moment he thought Zabini had come back to life to punish him for killing him twice. Fortunately his former classmate did not notice Draco's jitteriness but just kept walking past him.

The same thing happened when he encountered his father the first time, but this time he recovered from the shock much quicker. Later, when he met his mother and other people that he had killed six years ago, he did not react at all. He just muttered at them that they were in his way. Nobody suspected that he did not belong there, and to an extent that scared him. Was it really that easy for him to fool people into believing that he was evil?

Meeting Harry's parents was what was most awkward, partly because they were sort of his parents-in-law and partly because they were supposed to be good and acted totally out of character in this reality. He cowered from them, plagued by ambiguous feelings. He wanted to shake them and ask them what the Hell they'd been thinking crossing over to the dark side when they were supposed to protect their son, but at the same time he wanted to hug them and tell them just how happy he was to have their son in his life. He wanted to slap their faces and curse their arses for turning to Voldemort rather than Dumbledore, but he also wanted to show them his ring and tell them all about their grandchildren-in-another-dimension.

Seeing Piper in this world was also very straining and very painful, because the Piper of the Dark Plane was nothing like his sister. She was evil. And the word "evil" did not really seem to cut it; she was vicious, devious, malevolent, demonic! She had nothing of the stupidity that his Piper had, nothing of her annoying humour or tendency to deliberately getting her brother into different sorts of trouble. No, this Piper was cold-blooded, cold-hearted, and calculating. She thrived on other's pain and misery and never made a single mistake. Ever. He had always thought of his sister as the most skilled witch alive on this Earth, but he had also thought of her as the most stupid bitch there was. This Piper was a self-righteous killing machine, and every single spell and every single potion she tried worked at once. Unlike _his_ Piper, she never made anything explode unintentionally.

She often made things explode because she wanted them to, though.

Being Voldemort's right hand and general for the Death Eater army would be easy enough; hiding the fact that he was not "the dark Draco" from Piper, on the other hand...

He tried to avoid her as best he could, because she was way too smart not to notice the difference between him and the Draco that had been forced to take his place in their world.

And if she did... he would be doomed.

* * *

"Sirius!"

He had thrown himself around his godfather's shoulders before even realising that he had left the doorway. At the sight of Black by the fire in the basement kitchen, however, he had forgotten all about the scheme that he and Draco had planned to get James back to their universe. Clinging to the other man he remembered, though.

He hastily withdrew. "Sorry, Sirius," he said somewhat embarrassedly. "I just had this nasty nightmare, and it was so vivid I thought it was true, and... Oh, forget it, it wasn't important."

Sirius was regarding him with twinkling eyes and an amused smile. He seemed to be the same man that Harry remembered from his school years, but he also seemed to have been spared of most of his misery. Not having spent twelve years in Azkaban, he was a much more optimistic and open man than he had been when Harry knew him. He instantly loved him just as much as he had loved his Sirius.

"Harry, you shouldn't take dreams too seriously," he said. "Live for the moment and just be happy with what you've got. You never know what life has in store for you."

"I know," Harry assured him, smiling so broadly his facial muscles almost went into a cramp. Even if he had to wait two whole days before he'd see Draco again, at least he would get to spend them with Sirius.

Harry sat down at the table to have breakfast together with his godfather. Just when he was buttering a slice of bread, footsteps echoed in the staircase outside the door. A moment later two familiar men entered the room. Harry gaped at them.

The first person was Alastair Moody, and he looked nothing like the Mad-Eye Harry remembered. For one, he was smiling. Harry had never seen Mad-Eye smile. Smirk, yes, grimace – certainly! – but never smile. Second, his face was intact and untouched by bloodthirsty dark wizards. The Moody that Harry knew had scars all over his face and a large chunk missing from his nose, but this Moody had no scars, no scratches, and a whole nose. It was amazing. Now he finally knew what Moody really looked like.

The second person was Remus Lupin, and he was not quite himself either. Apparently no Wolfsbane Potion had been discovered in this world, and a life as a werewolf had worn down Lupin's psyche so bad that he had gone mad at it. He was wearing what looked like a straightjacket and his hair stood on end. He had an expression of utter insanity on his face. It pained Harry to see his old professor like that. (Or maybe he had never been his professor in this world?)

Sirius rose from the table when he saw Lupin, a concerned scowl on his handsome face. "What is he doing down here?" he asked warily.

Harry thought he was being unfair to Lupin. He wanted to say "He was your best friend at school" and reproach him for using that unpleasant tone, but then he realised that he would reveal his true identity if he did. Harry of the Dark Plane would be used to seeing Lupin like this and would not reproach anyone for treating him badly.

"Ahh, he wanted summat to eat, poor chap," Moody said in a my-poow-wittle-baby-is-hungwy-voice that totally baffled Harry. Maybe he should change his name to Cheery?

Sirius studied Lupin for a few seconds, then he nodded. "All right, but let it be quick. There's a full moon tonight, we need to lock him in early."

Harry watched as Lupin was placed in a chair opposite him at the big table. "Mornin' Remus," he said, arguing with himself that a greeting would be better than no greeting.

Lupin stared down into the tabletop. "Good morning, Harry," he said shyly.

Harry raised his eyebrows in puzzlement.

"Harryyyyy!"

Something big and soft slammed into him and clasped him in an airtight grip and almost knocked him off his chair. For a confused moment he thought Draco had trashed the idea of pretending to be head of the Death Eater army and come looking for him, but then he felt two distinct bumps press against his chest.

"Why didn't you wake me, you pig?"

A shiver travelled down his spine.

He stared at the person clinging to him with terror.

"Ginny, what the fuck are you doing?!" he said before he could stop himself. "And what the fuck are you wearing?!"

The word 'wearing' was too nice; all she had put on was a pair of red hotpants and a minimal halterneck top – an outfit that made her look extremely slutty.

She blinked at him in lack of understanding. "What? I'm not revealing enough?" she asked.

He pushed away from her, totally grossed out at the way she was touching him. "Not revealing enough?!" he exclaimed in fright. "Hell, you're revealing _too_ much! Go put some clothes on, will you?!" Uuugh, he did not _ever_ want to be touched by her like that again!

Tears filled her eyes. "What are you talking about, Harry? You like me to walk around the house in my underwear..."

"I _what_?! I... I... And why are you talking as if we live here?!"

"But we do live here!" she yelled and hit him hard on the chest with both her fists. "Last time I checked I was still your girlfriend, but maybe _you_ changed your mind overnight!"

Snivelling loudly, she turned on her heel – or, more like her bare feet, actually – and ran back up the stairs. Five seconds later the banshee wails of Sirius's mother could be heard from the hallway upstairs. Harry glared after her, not believing what he had just heard. Girlfriend? _Ginny?_ How the Hell had _that_ happened?!

Slowly he became aware that Sirius and Moody were watching him with a new wariness. He had totally blown his cover. They must have realised that there was something wrong, and he did not dare think about what they'd do to him now. Especially not if they thought he was a Death Eater on Polyjuice Potion. He tried to explain everything to them, but no words would escape his mouth. He just stood their gaping at them like some sort of dumb mute.

After a while, Sirius nodded at Moody. "Take Remus back upstairs. I want to talk to Harry in private."

At first Moody was utterly reluctant to leave Sirius alone with Harry, but ultimately he nodded and rose from the table. He cooed Lupin into following him to the door. As they passed Harry he could hear the poor (possibly) former professor ramble quietly to himself. "...Potter showed the bitch who's in charge, Potter showed the bitch who's in charge, oh, she'll have a hard time sleeping tonight... I might visit her..."

Another shiver travelled down his spine as the door was closed behind him.

Afraid for himself for the first time since he came to the Black house, he forced himself to meet Sirius's gaze. He had expected to be overpowered by the older man and either bound or killed, therefore he was very surprised at his godfather's question.

"Which world did you come from?"

* * *

"You must be kidding me! Me and Potter? Scarcely! I would never go near that half-blood, not even to get a better chance to kill the bastard! Me and Potter? You're out of your mind, woman."

"Is that any way to address your sister, Draco?" Piper asked, and could not hide her amusement at his desperate attempts to deny the obvious.

"Fuck you!"

"Fuck you right back, bro. You know it's true just as well as I do. Timmy – the Time Manipulator – said that your world's Time Manipulator is _his_ Parallel Self, which means that you _will_ get lovey-dovey with Potter sooner or later, or else he wouldn't exist. It's a fact. Don't deny it. It'll only come back to haunt you later in life. No, it's better to just accept facts and get on with life, bro. Laws of the jungle. Survival of the fittest. Pull of gravity. Rules of—"

"_Shut up!_ I will _not_ get lovey-dovey with Potter!"

Piper gave a shrill laugh and clapped her hands together in delight. "I can't _beliiiieeeeve_ that you actually used that word, Drakie-bums! Oooh, you are _sooo_ gonna screw!"

Not even Draco could think up a repartee to that one.

Parallel Harry was just studying her in silence, his arms crossed over his chest and a big scowl on his face. He did not look as if he wanted to jump Parallel Draco any more than the blonde looked ready to accept the hot relationship that had been going on in that house for so many years now, but at least he had at last agreed to sit down in peace. He and Draco were sitting on either end of the couch, as far away from each other as the piece of furniture would allow. Now she just had to convince them not to do any harm to each other during their stay in her world.

Draco was peering at Joz from the corner of his eye. "That thing's supposed to be my daughter?" he asked sceptically.

"That thing's name is Joz," Piper informed.

"Whatever. And I'm supposed to take care of her until your brother – my Parallel Self – returns home with the boy?"

"No, _you're_ supposed to take care of her _together_."

They looked at each other with obvious disgust badly masked behind walls of fury and hatred.

"Yeah right!" Draco said.

"As if!" Harry said at the same time.

After another fifteen minutes of persuasion – without results, one might add – Piper gave up and fell into Yousuke's arms, seeking comfort. She complained over the Parallel people's stubborn reluctance to accept their destiny in Japanese, and he replied her in Japanese, trying his best to soothe her with a few well chosen words that, to her, sounded like the most beautiful haiku.

Meanwhile, Parallel Harry and Parallel Draco both watched with bewildered expressions.

"Boy, she is so unlike my Piper," Draco claimed.

"Tell me about it," Harry agreed.

Draco turned to him in surprise. "You've met my sister?"

"Have I met your sister?! She almost killed me once! Lucky for me she only scorched my eyebrows," Harry said with a frown.

Then they seemed to become aware that they were speaking to each other in an almost neighbourly manner and instantly turned their heads away in stubborn silence.

That was just too much for Piper, so she left the room.

Only ten minutes passed before the chaos started, though. She was alerted by the furious shouting and the cracks that came from the parlour and hurriedly ran towards the tumult. What she found both astonished her and did not astonish her. The boys were cursing and jinxing each other best they could but missed more often than they actually hit each other. What surprised her was that Ron was there, trying his best to break them apart at the consequense of being hit with a few jinxes and hexes himself. With a reddish yellow boil-like nose the size of a small football and one trollish arm hanging at his side like a huge dead weight, he finally managed to catch their attention.

"Hey, hey, hey! Stop this before you hurt yourselves!" he yelled angrily. "Whatever happened to 'we-solve-our-problems-by-fucking-the-brains-out-of-each-other?!"

"Ron, stay out of this!" Harry growled and raised his wand anew. Then he started as if suddenly hit by a terrible realisation. "_Ron_?"

When Harry turned towards his friend and lost concentration, Draco seized the opportunity and prepared to fire a more serious curse at his opponent. "Cru—"

"_EXPELLIARMUS_!" Piper shouted as loud as she could.

Draco was flung backwards over the couch and landed hard on the wooden floor behind it while his wand shot out of his hand and flew into Piper's grasp.

"Ron?" Harry was staring at his friend in mild disbelief. Then he reached out his arm and poked Ron on the shoulder with his index finger. "You're not dead," he said in astonishment.

Ron blinked. "What? Er... no. Should I be?" he asked, confused.

"No, I guess not. It's good to see you, mate. I've missed you." He hugged him.

"Missed me? But I saw you just a couple days ago... What's with the robes? I thought you were fond of those jeans you were always wearing. And where's your scar? Piper have it removed for you?"

"Scar? What scar?"

"Haaaahhh... I think we all need some tea now!" Piper interrupted to prevent Parallel Harry from blowing their cover. "Who would like some biscuits?"

"Help," came Draco's voice from behind the couch.

Ron glanced down at him, then looked up at Harry's forehead anew. "What's going on here?" he asked suspiciously.

It seemed as if they had to explain everything to Ron anyway.

* * *

After the shock had lifted, he told Sirius about everything from beginning to end, and not once did his godfather seem to distrust his honesty. He felt relieved to finally have told somebody about their scheme and their plans to "fall for each other".

"Who have you chosen as your witness?" Sirius asked when he had finished his recount.

Harry shrugged. "I just thought I'd grab someone before I left or something," he admitted.

"That's no good plan, Harry, there might not be anyone you know around. I'll be one of your witnesses, but since I already know about these plans of yours you might want to bring someone else who _doesn't_ know. Someone who can be shocked enough to spread the word."

"Got any suggestions?" Harry asked.

"I'd say Hermione's a good choice for these sorts of things."

Harry flinched as if Sirius had swung his fist at him. "Her-Hermione?"

"Yes. Is that a problem?"

"I dunno, it's just that... Where I come from, Hermione's been dead for almost six years. And what's worse is... my son killed her."

"James?" Sirius said in disbelief.

"Not really." Harry told him about Tom and the complexity of Hermione's murder.

The godfather nodded. "I see. But I still think we should use Hermione. If you feel awkward about being around her it will only help – our Harry's very awkward around her, too. Three years ago, when Draco killed Ron in battle, he and Hermione were both devastated and wound up in bed together. They've been acting strange around each other ever since. The same thing happened between Harry and Ginny, but he never had the strength to tell her it had just been a mistake. She's always had a thing for him. So they've been a couple ever since. But I don't think Harry's very happy with her."

"I've been together with Ginny for _three years_?!"

"Not you – Harry."

"Oh. Well, that makes it all much clearer," Harry said sarcastically.

Eventually the time came for them to act. Harry had summoned Hermione on the pretence that he needed her advice on a possible location for a military meeting. She had come along to the decided rendez-vous point without asking questions. But like Sirius had said, she was acting real weird around him. He did not like the tension between them, but he did not possess the strength or the will to do anything about it. He would only regret it once he returned to his own world, because Hermione would still be dead there and he would not be able to continue their friendship.

Draco was not there when they arrived, which made Harry rather uneasy. What if he never came? What if something had happened to him? How long would he wait until he could allow himself to freak out?

"What the fuck are _you_ doing here?"

He could have cried out in happiness at the sound of the blonde's voice. But despite his wildly pounding heart and his flushing cheeks, he managed to keep a straight face.

He turned towards him slowly. "Malfoy," he said, acknowledging the enemy in an indifferent tone.

Draco had brought his old cronies, Crabbe and Goyle, along. Maybe they were the Death Eaters he felt most comfortable with since they were both so stupid.

"Get the Hell out of my reconnoitre site, Potter, or it will not be pleasant," the blonde warned with slits for eyes and fiercly gritted teeth.

Harry crossed his arms over his chest in defiance. "Why? I was here first."

Hermione pulled at the sleeve of his robes. "Harry, let's get out of here, there's no use messing with him."

"No, we were here first – _they'll_ leave."

"Like Hell we will," Draco hissed and came closer. "Get the Hell out of my sight before I curse your sorry arse."

"Go ahead and try me, Malfoy," Harry challenged.

They drew their wands at the exact same time and uttered their curses at the exact same time, too, all according to their plan. They only used minor curses that would not hurt them seriously if either of them got hit, but their combatant mode impressed a veritable enough impression on the others to make them believe they were serious about the battle. For a while they circled each other, cursing and jinxing and bewitching, successively moving ever closer to each other.

"Give up, Potter!" Draco demanded when they had come so close that they were only one foot away from each other. "You have no chance against me."

"No?" Harry mocked. They were only half a foot apart and still advancing, both their faces contorted by wrath and sexual frustration. The latter feeling they did not have to feign.

"No," Draco confirmed. "You're just a slimy old tart in old slutty robes."

Five inches apart.

"Oh yeah?" Harry said. "In that case you're a lonely, ugly virgin Death Eater who's too disgusting to ever get laid."

Two inches.

"You're gonna regret you ever said that, you filthy old piece of canine excrement!"

Half an inch.

"No, _you're_ gonna regret it, you stinking old sock!"

Without having to act, they slammed their lips together in a hard, desperate kiss that was at once lovely and disconcerting.

_(To be continued...)_

"Mada, watashi wa hanarenai kara... saa, dakishimete"

* * *

**_Gaah! The first chapter with Harry and Draco in the Dark Plane! (And Parallel Harry and Parallel Draco in their world, of course...) What do you think?? Ooooohhh, what is going to happen next?! X3_**

**_R&R!!  
Love, Piper_**


	46. PU part four: Double Truce

**Rating:** R

**Pairing:** H/D

**Disclaimer:** All the characters belong to J.K. Rowling, except for my creations Piper, James, Joz, Timothy, Yousuke Sakanoue, and Jonathan Kelly.

**Disclaimer II:** The nickname "Dracums" belongs to Golden.

**A/N:** Hmm, well, it didn't turn out as interesting as I had hoped, plus it came out pretty short compared to previous chapters... But, well. I guess it'll have to do. :P

* * *

**Parallel Universe, part four  
Double Truce**

The reactions could not have been better, and their plan could not have worked better. They all believed them, believed what they saw. Their reactions were those of animals shocked into a state of paralysed panic. Harry and Draco had not exactly been chaste, either. Their original plan had been to "accidentally kiss", and it was going to be a _little_ kiss, only lips – but the kiss they had engaged in had been one of desperation and insatiable lust with _loads_ of tongue! For almost twenty seconds they had stood there snogging away – until Hermione had screamed. Fortunately they had had enough sense to return to their act rather than acting like the married couple they were, and Draco had shied away with an expression of utter disgust on his face. He pointed at Harry, tried to say something, but just shook his head and Disapparated.

Harry had a hard time concealing his amusement at the blonde's behaviour, but managed to suppress it and spit out a few swear words and mutter "Fuck that Malfoy, he's fucking put a spell on me, the fucking poof". From what Sirius had told him, this world's Harry Potter was a rough-edged aggressor who cursed and made good use of dirty words, so he tried his best to sound harsher than he usually did. "Fucking" was the best he could come up with; he new no fouler words. He just hoped they would all buy it.

Hermione could not get over herself. She just kept staring at him with saucer-sized eyes and mouth hanging open dead-fish-style. Shaking bad, she pointed at him. "You... you... you..!"

"I... I... I..!" Harry said impatiently and very mockingly. "I what, Hermione? Come on, I haven't got all day!"

"You... you... you... kissed... _Malfoy_?"

Harry gave an irritated moan and rubbed his closed eyes with thumb and middle finger. "I know... why did I do that? I was just so angry with him, and he was calling me all sorts of names... but all of a sudden I was just so _drawn_ to him. I don't even understand it myself. But suddenly he was just so... attractive. Sexy. Oh, God, am I going mad? Have I lost my last marbles now?"

She just kept staring at him.

He took a dark satisfaction from her nonplussed face.

The play was turning out to be a major success.

Sirius put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed it fatherly. "Don't rack your brain about this, Harry," he advised. "It was just something that happened."

"Yeah, but I had my tongue in his mouth," Harry protested.

"Ugh," Hermione said with a grimace.

"Yeah," Harry agreed. "Look, let's just forget about the whole thing and go back home, okay? This doesn't make any sense to me, and I'm really embarrassed... I'd appreciate it if you didn't tell anyone about this..."

"Certainly not," Sirius promised, and Harry thought he saw the older man wink knowingly.

"'Course," Hermione said numbly.

Back at the Black house, Harry pretended to be nervous and absent-minded while simultaneously trying to keep track of everything that happened and everyone that came and went. He saw many people he knew but even more people he had never met before in his life. He was glad he was supposed to act confused right then, because if any of those people had started a conversation with him his cover would be blown in a matter of seconds.

Hermione stayed close to him all throughout the day, and to his annoyance so did Ginny. She wanted to cling to him all the time, and he hated it. He did not like seeing her like that, acting all slutty – she was Ron's little sister, for crying out loud! His brooding helped keeping her at a distance, though.

"Harry? How are you?" Hermione ultimately asked with worried wrinkles on her forehead.

He looked up at her. "Hmm?"

"How are you doing?" she repeated patiently.

He deliberately waited five seconds before replying. "Fine." Then he went back to brooding. Eventually his mind started to drift for real – it wasn't an act anymore – and without him even noticing, his son's name escaped him.

"Who?"

He gazed up at Hermione in confusion. "What?"

"You said 'James'," she told him. "Are you talking about your father?"

"My father..? No, I was just... my... I dunno."

"Harry, are you sure you're all right?"

"Yeah." He sighed deeply. "I just can't stop thinking about him."

Hermione frowned. "James?"

"Who?"

"That James bloke you're talking about – or are you talking about your father this time?"

"No, I wasn't talking about my father," Harry objected. "I meant Draco."

Hermione dropped the book she'd been reading on the floor. "Excuse me?"

Ginny was now listening intently to their strange conversation.

"I can't stop thinking about him," Harry repeated. "That kiss is haunting me."

Ginny spun around at him. "Kiss? What kiss?" she demanded, jealousy turning her face crimson.

"Harry kissed Draco Malfoy," Hermione informed her.

"_You what?!_"

"It was an accident," Harry said. "Or was it? I mean, I felt as if there was this major magnet drawing me to him... an undeniable attraction. All these confusing feelings were swirling around inside me... I don't understand what they mean, but I know it's something good. It felt good kissing him. I feel like I want to do it again."

Now Ginny got up from her armchair and slapped him hard in the face. "Bastard!" she hissed and stormed off in tears.

Harry blinked sheepishly after her. "What was _that_ about?"

"Hello!" Hermione said in a you're-bloody-crazy-and-infinitely-stupid sort of voice. "She's your girlfriend, what did you expect when you tell her you liked kissing a _guy_?"

Harry snorted. "Come off it, Hermione, you know that was a mistake as well as I do. It was just something that happened when we were both devastated over Ron's death – just like it was with you and me. She knows it's a mistake, too, but she clings to her dreams because she doesn't have anything else. It's sad, I know, but that's got nothing whatsoever to do with me." He grew aware that something was scratching his head and looked up to find Hedwig sitting on the back of the armchair. "Oh, hi Hedwig," he said. "Got a letter for me?"

She dropped it into his lap.

When he read it a deep scowl made him look ten years older.

Hermione studied him with concern. "What is it? What does it say?"

"It's from... Draco," Harry said numbly and met her eyes. "He wants to talk to me."

* * *

They stared at each other with wild eyes while the wind blew outside, rain hungrily licking the windows and the walls of the Manor and spraying the roof with nature's own automatic gun fire. Neither of them dared to avert their glares; neither of them relented their grips on their wands. The knuckles on their hands had long ago turned white. Harry could feel his hyperventilating breath half caught in his tight, hurting chest, and the beats of his heart rang in his ears; his blood was churning. Never before had those great amounts of adrenaline been flooding his systems. He felt dangerous.

Only when his eyes began to sting and smart and water did he dare to blink. Sweat trickled down his forehead. Every muscle in his body was tensed and ready for action. Ancient survival instinct.

Then he sighed and lowered his wand hand.

So did the blonde.

"I don't have the strength to keep fighting you 24/7 like this," he complained. "We've been at each other's throats for three whole days now – I just can't take it anymore. I feel ready to faint. What do you say we agree upon a temporary truce that will last only for the duration of our stay in this strange, repelling world?"

The blonde – just as beat as he was – stood staring at him in silence for a long while before he finally nodded and definitely put his wand away. "All right. Sounds fair enough. As soon as we get back to our world we'll continue the war, but here we'll be neutral. I get it."

"Good. Wanna shake hands on that?"

Draco snorted. "Do you want it in writing, too?" But he shook Harry's hand – reluctantly.

"Okay," Harry said awkwardly. "What do neutral foes do?"

He felt really weird, talking to Malfoy as if he was a friend or something.

Apparently Malfoy was just as uncomfortable talking to him. "Er... I dunno," he said with a frown. "How about watching that brat for a while? She's been playing with her fake Exploding Snap set for more than an hour now. I don't know anything about children, but she looks kind of lonely to me."

Harry studied little Josephine. "Yeah, she does seem a little bit lonely. All right. Let's, er, play with the baby then, erhm."

The first ten minutes or so they sat quite stiffly on either side of Josephine and engaged in a really forced conversation with the girl. Not once did they address each other but rather pretended the other was not there. Eventually, however, they began to slowly and gradually loosen up and ultimately acknowledge the other's presence in the parlour. After thirty minutes they were talking quite freely to each other. It was still just small talk, but Harry rather enjoyed it.

"Bloody weather," Draco said with his nose wrinkled in dislike. "I hate rain. Wish I'd have been born in Tahiti."

Harry could not help but smile slyly. "Thought you loved being the son of England's wealthiest wizard," he pointed out in a semi-mocking tone.

The blonde snorted disapprovingly. "Yeah, until he lost all his money, I did!"

Harry looked up at him in astonishment. "Your father lost all his money?"

"Sure did. That man's got a major gambling problem."

"Are you serious?"

"No, I'm fucking with you, Potter," Draco said, annoyed. "Do you really think that I – Draco Malfoy – would joke about something as important as money?!"

"No, not really. It's just so hard to imagine you being poor..."

"Yeah, I'm still recovering from the shock he gave me when he told me two years ago," Draco muttered, and shook his head for emphasis.

"Two years?! He's been bankrupt for two whole years?!"

"No, he was bankrupt the first year, the last year he's owed pretty much every single wizard with a small fortune money – and loads of it. And the loans just keep piling up... He's at a risk of being assassinated for his debts, and he knows it. I'm just waiting for the day I'll find him dead somewhere. That day the debts will move over to me and _I'll_ be marked for death."

Harry found himself putting a reassuring hand on the blonde's shoulder. "That sounds awful," he said. "Is there anything I can do for you?"

Draco put his hand over Harry's and squeezed it a little. Gazing deep into his eyes, he whispered, "You're doing it now."

Harry's first impulse was to withdraw his hand as quick as possible, because it felt way too weird to be providing comfort for his archenemy even through such a small gesture. But something in the blonde's silvery pale eyes made him rethink that impulse. His hand remained where it was. For a moment it almost felt as if it had melted and metamorphosed into an extension of the blonde's body. They were magically welded together somehow, and he did not understand what it meant.

Soon their attention turned to the girl again, and they watched her as she played with a couple of the Weasley twins' fake wands. She was so innocent... so beautiful... Before, when Piper had told them about the marriage between this world's Harry and Draco, Harry had dismissed it as something disgusting and abominable. He had not even wanted to listen to it. But now he began to understand that it was not disgusting at all. Two boys or two men loving each other and sharing a life together was not disgusting at all – it was just as beautiful as the relationship between man and woman. And it had created this gorgeous little girl.

"She's lovely," Draco mumbled, almost as if he was giving word to his innermost thoughts.

Harry looked up at him. How strange that they had been thinking the exact same thing. The fact that Draco Malfoy could acknowledge the beauty in life, love, and parenthood almost made Harry like him a bit. It sure made him hate him a little bit less, if anything.

The blonde lifted his gaze from Josephine and met Harry's eyes. That mysterious look again. What did it mean? His heart began to pound like crazy, and he did not understand _that_ either, no more than he understood why it always rained in Britain. Without even realising it, they were slowly leaning closer to each other until Harry could feel the blonde's mintscented breath against his skin.

Their lips lightly touched for a second or two.

Instantly, they shot back with wry faces and goosebumps.

"What are we doing?!" Draco exclaimed with disgust.

"What were we thinking?!" Harry exclaimed at the same time. "That was weird!"

"That was _nuts_!" Draco emphasised. "Let's never _ever_ do that again, all right?"

"Yeah, _never_," Harry agreed, shivering. "Blimey, the atmosphere in this house is doing strange things to us..."

They sat there with Josephine for another ten minutes, red with shame and embarrassment, and then they excused themselves and escaped into different rooms.

* * *

Hermione swiftly read through the short message that Draco had sent with an owl that Harry had never seen before. He guessed that this world's Draco Malfoy did not have a tawny named Brutus like his Dracums had... After having read the letter thrice, Harry already knew it by heart. _Potter, I wish to speak to you about this war._ _Meet me in Diagon Alley at 5 sharp._ _No wands!_ _If you're late, you can forget the deal. Draco._ He glanced at Hermione as she re-read the letter. When she had finished, she looked up at him with concern in her big eyes. "You're not going, are you? This might be a trap, you know. Hell, it _has_ to be a trap, why else would Malfoy ask you to meet him?"

"Can't do much harm in Diagon Alley at rush hour, though, can he?" Harry pointed out. He scribbled down the last sentence of his reply.

She leaned in over his shoulder. "What are you writing?" she wondered curiously.

Harry's letter read: _All right, Malfoy,_ _I'll meet you in Diagon Alley at 5._ _Does it have to be sharp, though?_ _I'm a quite busy man,_ _and I would hat to keep you hanging in case someting comes up._ _If I am late, please wait for me,_ _I am dying to talk to you about something._ _I'll leave my wand with Hermione. Harry._

Hermione gasped. "Harry, no! You can't go there alone! And certainly not without your wand!"

"Are you crazy? Of course I'm taking my wand! But you didn't really expect me to tell him that, did you? 'Sorry, Dracums, I have to bring my wand in case it's a setup.' That'd be suicide, Hermione."

She frowned. "'Dracums'?"

Harry jerked. He had said that? Shit! "Huh, wha'? Must've just said it wrong, is all... Look, I only have twenty minutes, so... Guess I'll see you later, 'kay? Cheers."

He hurried out of the room before she could object.

* * *

Draco checked his watch at least a dozen times between 4.30 and 4.35. He could not concentrate on anything – he was too anxious to meet Harry and get this stupid act over with. When his wrist watch finally said 4.55 he decided it was time to go. Feeling a tickle of excitement and happiness in the pit of his stomach, he left through the parlour archway with the intention of telling his father he was going to a meeting. Halfway up the stairs to the second floor, where Lucius Malfoy had his own private office, Draco was stopped by none other than Blaise Zabini. Still plagued by a guilty conscience about what he had done to his best friend, Draco flinched at the sight of him. "What are you doing here?" Zabini asked in exasperation, and his outburst totally puzzled Draco. "You're needed at the front!"

He began to push him back downstairs.

Draco knitted his brows. The front..?

Oh no. He was taking him to the war site. But he was going to meet Harry. _He was going to meet Harry._ He could not go to no bloody war – he could get killed! And if he got killed he would never meet his Harry again.

"Blaise, wait!" he protested and struggled to free himself from the other man. "I can't go right now, I have an important meeting. I'll go later, I promise—"

"Meeting? Who you have a meeting with?"

"With Har—" Wait, he could not actually say that, not yet. Dammit. "I'm meeting a very important wizard who might help us with... this thing that might help us win the war, and—"

"Really? Doesn't sound very important to me. Now go. Our soldiers are depending on you."

Against his will, Draco was flung into a war zone so severe that one look made his stomach turn. There were wizards fighting everywhere, wands held out in front of them, and curses were flying through the air all around him. The ground was wet and muddy because of the rain that had poured down a couple hours ago, and there were few hiding places. Draco could immediately tell the good wizards from the bad, because the Death Eaters were all wearing their black hooded cloaks, hiding their faces. He tried to circle them and get out of the line of fire—

"Chief!"

Draco turned around in bafflement. Were they talking to him? Who the Hell called anyone 'Chief' nowadays? He were not one of those 'pleasemen', for God's sake!

Or did Muggles even exist in this world? He had never heard anyone mention them... And if the Dark Plane was a Parallel Universe in which everything that could go wrong _had_ gone wrong, then what's to say that the Death Eaters had not already eliminated all the Muggles?

"Chief, we need reinforcement!" one of the Death Eater soldiers shouted at him.

Draco understood that his Parallel Self must be a cold-hearted general who did not fear anything at all, but he could not muster enough courage to pretend to be cold and fearless. There was a war going on around him, and all he could think about was his husband and his children. He wanted everything to go back to normal.

"Chief!"

"Sorry," Draco whimpered in a semi-whisper and Disapparated.

When he finally arrived to Diagon Alley, he sighed with relief. He had gotten out of there alive and in one piece. Now he just had to find Harry.

Not too difficult a task, it turned out. He was waiting impatiently outside Quality Quidditch Supplies, his favorite shop. "One could have known," Draco muttered to himself as he confidently approached Harry.

Harry shifted his feet. The look on his face told Draco that he had been worried sick about him and now tried to hide it with a lot of anger. "You're late, Malfoy," he said disapprovingly. "Thought you were the one who was obsessed with punctuality." His green eyes bored mercilessly into Draco's.

He swallowed hard and stuck out his chin. It was so bloody difficult to keep the act up and prevent himself from jumping Harry. "There was a hold-up," he informed graciously. "Potter, we need to discuss—"

Hermione stepped out of the shadows behind Harry.

Draco knitted his brows. "What is _she_ doing here?"

Harry sighed and shrugged. "She wouldn't let me go alone. Now, what was it that you wanted to talk to me about?"

Draco did not like the fact that Hermione was there, and decided to use that in his favour. "We need to discuss this war," he went on. "We've been fighting each other for years, hating each other for much longer, and then all of a sudden you... you... you... _kiss_ me!"

Harry was drop-jawed. "Excuse me?! _You_ were the one who kissed _me_!" he protested.

"I was not! I would never kiss you voluntarily in my life! You betrayed me, and you betrayed your own parents! There is no redemption for that – you deserve to die, Potter. But unfortunately I can't kill you in front of all these people..."

"I betrayed you? All I did was understand that there are more important things in life than wealth and power – like love and friendship. Weren't we friends once, Malfoy? Didn't you feel that it was genuine? Or was that just a charade for you? Maybe you didn't think we had fun together, but I did."

Hermione gasped and stared at him as if he had announced that he was stepping back over to the dark side. He dismissively waved her away. "I was eleven, Hermione, and I'm not talking about now. It's been a long time since Draco and I were friends. If we ever were."

Draco defiantly crossed his arms over his chest and smirked self-righteously. "What? Don't you remember how we were those days, Harry? Don't you remember how we always teased and mocked everyone smaller than us... Don't you remember how we used to beat them up?" He was making things up now, and he hoped Harry would understand that and play along.

"Well, that was twelve years ago..."

"Not that long, eh, Harry? Surely you've still got it in you, don't you? I can see it in your eyes. You're just dying to smash little Hermione's porcelain face in, aren't you?"

Harry made to lash out at him. The fury on his face looked almost real. "How dare you... You know nothing about me! You don't know what I'm thinking, you don't know what I'm feeling, and you sure as Hell don't know what I want!"

"Sure I know what you want, Potter."

"No, you don't! I want this fucking war to end! I want my friends to be safe again, I want the future to be brighter than the past, and I want you to—"

"You want me to what, Potter?"

God, he felt like Snape!

"I want you to... want you to... go to Hell!"

"Really? Is that really what you wished to say?"

"Oh, fuck this!" Harry said and sprang forward. Fiercely, he grabbed the blonde around his waist and pulled him into his arms. He pressed his lips to Draco's in sheer desperation. Draco wanted to put his arms around Harry's back and press even closer _now_, instantly, but he restrained himself and tried to pull away instead to maintain the illusion of their hostility towards one another. But soon he lost himself in the kiss and forgot all about the rules of this Parallel Universe. He put his arms around Harry's neck and opened his mouth in welcome. Their tongues smashed together in desperation, wrapped themselves around each other, massaged each other.

Draco let one of his hands travel down Harry's back, coming to a rest on his buttocks. He squeezed teasingly. The raven-haired man responded by moving his hand inside the blonde's cloak, then inside his robes, and Draco moaned-gasped-sighed as his warm, slightly trembling fingers caressed his belly and the small of his back. When they finally broke apart, Draco let his lips linger on Harry's for a second before letting go entirely.

They stared at each other – feigning shock.

Then they clasped each other's hands.

"I don't want to fight you anymore!" they yelled in unison.

"You feel the same thing as I feel?" Draco asked hopefully.

"By 'what you feel' you mean totally hots for you? Then, yeah, I feel the same thing as you do. I feel a major attraction that I can't deny, and kissing you is the most wonderful thing I have ever experienced. I just want to do it again!"

"Then do it again!" Draco pleaded longingly.

"_No_!" Hermione screamed. "Stop! Stop this immediately! What on Earth are you doing?! You can't behave like this – it's irresponsible!"

"Irresponsible?" Harry echoed in lack of understanding. "It is _wonderful_! I've just realised that I don't want to fight Draco anymore – I want to _be_ with him! Shouldn't that count for something?"

"No!" Hermione maintained firmly.

Draco put his arm around Harry's waist and smiled cockily. "I think it's brilliant, Harry. And I want to be with you, too. I'm tired of being evil – I want to do good. Can I come home with you today?"

Despite Hermione's many objections, Harry consented and brought Draco home with them. Ginny was not very happy to see him, but Sirius was delighted to finally meet Harry's spouse. Introducing his husband to his godfather was one of the best moments in Harry's life, because even though this was a Parallel Sirius he felt as if he had finally managed to introduce the two most important people in his life to one another.

Later that night, when they were finally alone and lying on their backs in bed, holding hands and very much content with that, Harry laughed and said, "Wonder what our Parallel Selves will think of the reality they'll return to soon."

Draco laughed out loud, too. "Yeah. I bet they'll have the shock of their lives. Wonder what they're doing now, though?"

* * *

Everything was unusually quiet. As he understood it, it was usually very noisy at the Manor. But Piper and her Japanese family seemed to be enjoying quieter activities this particular night, because not a single sound could be heard in the entire house.

Harry helped him to tuck in little Josephine, who did not seem to be ready for bed yet even though it was nine o'clock. Draco sure was ready for bed and planned to tuck himself in as soon as they had managed to get the girl to sleep. It took them almost half an hour, so after that Draco was completely exhausted. He leant against the wall outside the nursery when they had closed the door, and sighed. "Man, taking care of children is bloody wearisome!" he said, and rubbed his left eye.

"Yeah, sure is," Harry agreed. "I actually think I'm going to bed, I'm beat."

"Me too. Well, have a good night." He intended to go down the hall to his bedroom, but he lingered. So did Harry. They both lowered their gazes somewhat embarrassedly.

"Er, I guess I should go downstairs...," Harry began, but didn't finish his sentence.

He did not know how it happened, did not remember stepping away from the wall and into his arms – suddenly they were just kissing. Again. But this time the kiss lasted for almost ten seconds, and it was the sweetest kiss Draco had ever experienced. Half-open, semi-wet, and a little tongue.

He tasted of cherry tea.

Good choice.

When Draco came to his senses and realised what they were doing, he blushed and turned his face the other way to hide it from Harry. He cleared his throat and said, "I'd better go before I do something I'll regret in the morning."

"Yeah, me too," Harry said, but Draco noticed that he was very reluctant to leave him.

Draco did not want him to leave, either.

But the thought of sharing a bed with Harry Potter...

It would never happen. Ever.

But when Draco turned on his heel and walked down to his bedroom, a smile was playing on his newly kissed lips...

_(To be continued...)_

"Mada, watashi wa hanarenai kara... saa, dakishimete"

* * *

**_I originally planned to watch a movie or two this evening, but then I sort of wound up here instead - and now I can't stop!! XD I just love this story so much, and now I'm completely emerged in it, and I just have to keep on going!! X3 I hope you guys are enjoying this as much as I am, hehe... ;) Now, onto the next chapter for me! See ya! ;)  
Love, Piper_**


	47. PU part five: The Heat Is On

**Rating:** NC-17

**Pairing:** H/D

**Disclaimer:** All the characters belong to J.K. Rowling, except for my creations Piper, James, Joz, Jonathan Kelly, Timothy, and the Sakanoues.

**Disclaimer II:** Golden made up the nickname "Dracums", I didn't... :p

**A/N:** I'm afraid I allowed myself to get too swept away by the Parallel Harry and Draco in this chapter... :p There is almost nothing about "the real" Harry and Draco in here whatsoever. Sorry. I will try to make it more balanced next time. But right now this was more fun... ;)

* * *

**Parallel Universe, part five  
The Heat Is On**

"What's wrong with you?" Piper asked as she sat down at the breakfast table following morning. "You look as if you've been haunted by nightmares all night and been deprived of all your sleep."

Draco chewed in silence. When Harry and he had risen in the morning to take Joz to the magical day-care centre, they had agreed never to speak of last night again. It was best if they simply forgot it ever happened. Therefore he cleared his throat nervously and shrugged. He kept chewing on his sandwich, hoping Piper would drop the subject.

"Where're all your children?" Harry asked in a brave attempt to make conversation _and_ change the subject without raising too much suspicion..

"They're with Yousuke," Piper informed, yawning. "Man, you never get any sleep when you have babies," she complained and rubbed her sleepy eyes.

"Guess not," Harry said.

All of a sudden, Piper started in her seat as if she had been hit by lightning, but Draco assumed that she had merely been hit by one of her very rare epiphanies. "Oh! Right! Before I forget—" (She pointed at Harry.) "—you have Quidditch practice this afternoon between noon and four! Harry left me his schedule and said it was very important that you attend all practice sessions. And there was something else... er, something important, too... Dammit, where is my memory this morning?" (She furrowed her brow in a most thoughtful manner.) "Oh, yeah! Now I remember! Thursday is September 1, and you are expected to be at Hogwarts at least two hours prior to the Sorting to participate in the preparations."

When she had finished, she looked at the raven-haired man in silent expectation.

Harry merely blinked sheepishly at her. "Wha'? But I graduated six years ago..."

"Silly! You're not going back to school! You're teaching!" Piper howled with laughter and bent double over the table.

Harry dropped his sandwich. Gaping like a fish, he emitted small squeaky noises.

Draco watched him, torn between the old need to laugh at him for looking so dorky and a weird urge to pat him consolingly on the shoulder.

Piper did not seem to understand Harry's panicked face. "What? Too much information at once? Should I repeat the last part for you?"

Harry slowly shook his head. Then, an expression of utmost dispair in his face, he sank back in his chair and sank down a foot or so. "I'm supposed to teach?" he echoed blankly.

"Um, yeah, that's right," Piper said, her mouth full of grapefruit.

"Teach what?"

"Students, I presume. I don't believe they accept goblins now, do they?"

Harry ignored the irony in her tone and shouted: "What bloody subject is it I'm supposed to be teaching?!"

"Defense Against the Dark Arts."

"_Defense Against the Dark Arts?"_

"Uh-huh."

"Did they ever consider that maybe that's not so clever since my parents are working directly under Voldemort?"

Draco almost fell out of his chair. "Don't say his name!" he shrieked, his hand clutched over his heart. "You almost gave me a friggin' heartattack!"

Harry gave him a sceptic look. "You're his right hand and _you_ can't even bear hearing his name? You're fucking pathetic, Malfoy. You're always acting so tough, but when it comes down to the little details you're nothing but a wuss."

"What about you, then?" Draco retorted. "You know loads about Dark Magic, but you don't have the guts to teach kids to defend themselves from it just because your parents are Dark wizards! Hello! You're not even in your own world anymore, remember? You're supposed to be this other Harry whose parents have been dead for twenty-two years – your students won't know shit about _your_ parents! Fucking pull yourself together, you're a disgrace to wizards all around the world."

He fell silent when Piper began to chuckle sarcastically.

Her pale grey eyes glittered with mischief and self-satisfaction.

"Something's happened between the two of you, hasn't it?" she stated, and baffled them both. "The way you're quarrelling like that... You're not trying to kill each other anymore, you're not even rowing like you used to. You're trying to sound hostile and vile, but all you can muster is some sort of pseudo-irritation that doesn't even fool me. Something's happened between you. Tell me what it is. What have you done?"

They stared down at their food.

"You're wrong," Draco muttered after a moment's silence.

Suddenly his porridge did not seem so appetizing anymore.

"Did you screw?"

"Excuse me?!" Harry expelled incredulously.

"Kiss, then?"

"You wish," Draco grimaced in disgust.

"Maybe you just touched, then?" Piper suggested dreamily. "Who touched who and where? Come on, lads! Give me something here! Something juicy! I could live off one single juicy event for months, and I really, really miss my brother and his sex toy – I never have anything exciting to spy on when they're gone. Would you please just tell me what you did? Pweeeaaaze?"

Draco sighed irritably. "Would you stop it already? You're giving me a headache. We haven't done anything, and we certainly don't intend to. We've only agreed on a temporary truce, that's all. As soon as we get back to our world we'll forget all about this embarrassing experience and kill each other the good old fashion way. Happy?"

Piper pouted. "No, but I guess that'll have to do for now. I know you're up to something, and I'm gonna find out what."

She rose from the table and strutted off towards the stairs.

Draco exhaled in a deep sigh of relief. That had been close. He certainly did not want _her_ to find out he'd kissed Harry, because that would mean having her pining after them 24/7.

Harry rose, too. "I'm going upstairs to take a shower," he said numbly. He still looked rather pale, what with the news of Quidditch practice and Defense Against the Dark Arts teaching.

Draco nodded and kept chewing his suddenly dry bread and tasteless porridge. Four days. It had only taken him four days to kiss him. When Piper had told them about this world's Harry and Draco and their close relationship (did they really screw five times _a day_?!) he had refused to listen. And when she claimed that _he_ would fall for Harry of his own world, he had waved it away as nonsense. But now... looking back at the four days that had passed... Had he really been as hostile as he had thought? Had he _ever_ been as hostile as he liked to think he was? Looking back on the past, he realised that he had always felt... something... when he was close to Harry. Well, maybe not always, but from the age of thirteen or fourteen. When his hormones had started raging, it had not been girls that came to mind – it had been Harry. That's why he had been so hateful towards him during their school years; he was afraid that his forbidden feelings would show. So he used that as an excuse to mock him and condemn him and blamed it on the fact that he had changed houses.

"Shit," he whispered to himself as he realised that there had always been an undeniable attraction between them.

Had Harry felt it, too? Was that why he..?

Scared half out of his wits by his own line of thought, Draco swiftly pushed his chair back and stood up. He did not bother to clean up after himself but left for the third floor immediately. He was used to having half-a-dozen house-elves taking care of that for him. When he reached his bedroom on the third floor and prepared to get dressed he remembered that he had left his wand in the bathroom last night. He needed the wand to be able to clean himself up without having to bother with showers or baths; he was feeling lazy today.

Feeling somewhat embarrassed and stupid, he stealed out into the hallway and over to the bathroom door. He could hear the water running in there.

He knocked on the door.

When no answer came, he called, "Harry?"

Still no answer.

_Dammit_, he thought. _I need that wand!_

Feeling very awkward – feeling like a bloody peeping Tom, for crying out loud! – he carefully opened the door an inch or so and called again. "Harry? Sorry to bother you, but do you think you could give me my wand, please? I left it in there by accident last night, and I really need it. Sorry, it can't wait..."

"Oh, sure," Harry said, "no problem."

When he heard the water being turned off, Draco looked. He could not help it. It was as if some divine force compelled him to look. He was being coerced by his long suppressed desire to get close to Harry again. Through the two-inch-wide crack, he could see every inch of Harry's wet, muscular body before he elegantly slipped a towel around his waist; his wide shoulders, his abs, his hips, and his...

Draco swiftly turned his face away, retrieved the wand through the narrow opening, and fled back to his bedroom. The door slammed shut behind him. Breathing hard, heart racing, he leant against the closed door. He could not get the image out of his head. Harry was... and his...

"My God, he's _huge_!" he whispered dazedly.

What was it, like nine inches?!

"_Shit._.." How was he supposed to pretend as if nothing had happened _now_? "Oh my God, I hope he didn't see me looking..."

There was a knock on the door.

Draco jumped involuntarily. "Ye-yeah?"

"Are you OK in there? You ran off so fast I thought you were on fire or something..."

_I was_, Draco thought miserably. _Oh, dear Merlin, I was._

Right about then he noticed a difference beneath the belt.

His little one had risen to the occasion, indeed.

Draco gave a frustrated growl. "God, I'm sick!" he exclaimed, and tore at his hair.

"What?" Harry said on the other side of the door. "Do you need me to get you anything?"

_Why do you care so much all of a sudden?!_ Draco wanted to scream, but was still too distracted by his unexpected hard-on to remember how to speak. _Get down!_ he thought, as if his penis was actually able to intercept telepathic messages. _Get down, get down, get down! You're not supposed to do that when you see a guy naked!_

"Draco?"

"Coming!" he yelled desperately, but then he hit himself in the side of his face. _Do not use that word in this situation! You are NOT coming! You're merely yearning... sort of... right?_

Wait, what was he thinking? He was panicking! And over what?

Taking a few deep breaths, he finally managed to calm down, and warily opened the door. Harry was dressed now, of course, and he was wearing a pair of those odd trousers that Piper called 'jeans' and a pale blue shirt. His hair was damp and tousled. "Are you all right?" he asked worriedly.

Piper was right. Something _had_ changed between them. They were no longer acting like jerks towards one another; they were actually quite friendly with each other.

Draco forced a faint smile. "Yeah, just a little... er... stomach ache... nothing serious. Must've eaten too much for breakfast."

"With your appetite? Hardly!"

Draco laughed. He had a feeling Harry would ask him to practice Quidditch with him in the grounds outside, because he knew for a fact that Harry had not played since his school days. He needed to refresh his memory if he was to fool his team mates that afternoon. And they only had two hours.

Passing Harry in the doorway, their shoulders brushed against each other, and Draco stopped. A shiver of anticipation travelled down his arm and back from the spot where Harry's shoulder had touched him. For a moment he dared not move. He could feel every muscle in his body tensing. Then he felt that compulsion again – that divine force that coerced him into acting in a way so out of character for him. Slowly, as if he was not moving at all, he turned his face to the right, and closed his eyes. Harry's lips met his an instant later, so soft and warm... Almost instinctively, he opened his mouth – Harry's tongue searched its way inside, wet and hot and trembling.

Draco closed his arms around Harry's neck and pressed their chests together. Now that they were so close, he could feel their hearts beat a speedy _lub-dub, lub-dub _in unison. Both reluctant to break the magical kiss, they opened their mouths to quickly inhale some oxygen at the same time before resuming their intimate snogging.

Harry's hands tentatively searched their way down the front of his dressing-gown, and he began to tug at it. Draco meowled in his mouth. They found the string. Undid the knot. The dressing-gown fell open and bared the blonde's chest. Still with their tongues dancing, his hands moved naturally from fabric to skin; from cold to warmth. Draco briefly broke the kiss when a pleading moan escaped him, but Harry instantly recaptured his mouth with his while simultaneously working his way down Draco's chest towards his abdomen, then past his navel and down to the rim of his underwear...

"Harry? Are you up there? I need to talk to you about this Quidditch thing..." Piper's footsteps were quickly coming towards them up the stairs from the second floor.

As a reflex, they instantaneously broke apart, Draco backing into the bedroom and shutting the door behind himself and Harry sprinting-sneaking down the hall in the direction of the bathroom. Draco could hear the door slam shut just before Piper reached the top of the stairs, and exhaled in a deep sigh of relief. _Fuck._ Why did she have to come _now_? That kiss had been so lovely... and _Harry's hands_... Draco grinned dreamily and felt rather kinky when he thought about it. If Piper had not come, he probably would not have been wearing those boxers much longer...

He opened the door a few inches to listen to their conversation. He wanted more. _needed_ more. More of Harry. He would sneak back out as soon as Piper had left.

"Are you decent?" he heard her ask, and assumed that Harry was safely in the bathroom.

The door opened. "Yeah. What is it?" He sounded a bit touchy.

"I forgot to tell you one thing," Piper said. "Er, about your broom. I don't know what kind of broom you had during your school years, or even which kind of broom is popular in your world, but Harry's got a Firebolt 4000—"

"A Firebolt 4000?!" Harry exclaimed violently. "You're kidding!?"

"No, I am quite serious. So, you've heard of it, then?"

"Heard of it?! They only made five of them! Wow! Does your Harry really have one? A real Firebolt 4000? That's bloody awesome! And I'm going to fly it?! For real?!"

"See, that's just the thing... Harry's really fond of his broomstick... He would be devastated if anything happened to it. Draco gave it to him for his eighteenth birthday, you see. So I thought maybe it would be better if you tried his old Firebolt first? To see that you can handle it, I mean, these things move much faster than the Nimbus 2000 series..."

"I know! And that's not going to be a problem at all! I'm still going to be flying a real Firebolt! Wow!"

Draco laughed quietly to himself. He could picture Harry's beaming face with his inner eye. He listened as Piper urged Harry to come outside and try the racing broom, but Harry said he needed to finish something first. Piper sighed and walked back downstairs. "Ten minutes," she said.

_Good boy_, Draco thought, grinning broadly, _come back to me now._

"Sorry 'bout the interruption," that sexy semi-hoarse voice said in his ear.

Draco jumped slightly. Harry had crept up to him so silently that he had not even noticed until he stood right next to him. "Don't worry," he said now, "I'm used to waiting."

To his surprise, it was much easier to continue where they had left off than he had first thought it would be. They just kind of 'fell into the kiss', it felt so natural, as if they had never done anything else in their entire lives. Draco unconsciously stuck out his chest to invite Harry's hot hands again, and the raven-haired man obliged loyally. This time he began to pull down the dressing-gown over Draco's shoulders, his fingers sort of massaging the blonde's upper arms. Harry released Draco's tongue and traced the blonde's chin and neck with hot kisses.

Draco threw his head back slightly, breathing hard and quickly, his eyes closed in euphory. His back pressed painfully against the doorframe, but he did not care. Harry nibbled at a soft spot on his nape and elicited a half-suppressed cry from Draco. Grinning mischievously, he looked up at Draco. "Like that, do you?" he asked mockingly.

Draco did not know that he opened his mouth to answer, did not know that his lips formed the words (he meant to say 'Oh, yeah, I love it'), not until he heard himself saying, "I saw your penis."

Harry gave a snort and doubled over with laughter. "You what?!" He looked like he was dying from laughter – a very serious disease, indeed, hrm.

Draco just wanted to die. What the fuck had he just said?! His cheeks burnt with shame as he lowered his gaze. Suddenly he could not bear to look Harry in the eye anymore. "Er... I, er... I sort of happened to look when you came out of the shower..."

"So you _did_ check me out?" Harry stated, and laughed even more. "I knew you did, you little bugger! You're quite the peeping Tom, aren't you, Draco?"

Draco lifted his gaze and blinked at him. He had thought that Harry would be angry with him for peeking, but he was _smiling_! But then he realised that, if Harry had been worried about being seen naked, he certainly would not undress Draco with the intention of sleeping with him... He would have to be naked to do that, so it did not matter if Draco had already seen him in the nude.

He was just about to reply when that annoying Piper called from the floor below again. "Harry! Where are you? I said ten minutes! What on Earth are you doing up there?!" It sounded as if she was ready to come back upstairs, so Harry hurried to call out, "No! Don't come here! I'm ready now! I just needed to... change my clothes. Those jeans were too tight."

She sighed down there. "Oh, all right. Just get your arse down here _now_. I haven't got all day."

Harry turned to the blonde with an apologetic look in his emerald eyes. "I'm sorry. Seems as if we'll have to do this some other time."

Draco planted a brief, but sweet, kiss on his cheek, and said, "When you get back from practice this afternoon," he promised. "I'll be waiting for you."

* * *

Draco woke with a start and sat up straight in bed, gasping for breath but feeling as if someone had cut off his oxygen. Squeaking pathetically, he reached out his hand and shook Harry awake. He peered up at the blonde with sleepy half-open eyes, but when he saw the utter fear in his eyes he became wide awake. He pulled himself up. "What's wrong? What's happened?" he asked, and gazed around the room as if he expected them to be surrounded by sinister creatures.

Draco feverishly shook his head. He could not speak. He could only make small gestures that Harry did not understand.

The raven-haired man frowned. "Wha'? You have another dream or something?"

Sighing with relief because Harry had hit the spot and grasped the situation, Draco nodded. Suddenly it was as if his body began to work properly again, for now he could both breathe and speak. "I saw him – I saw James! He's – he's – he's with Vo-Vo-Voldemort!" he stuttered with horror.

Harry jerked. "He's _what_?"

"Yes! I saw him, he's..." He fell silent, and grabbed the collar of Harry's pyjama top. "Harry, he's been observing Voldemort all this time, I'm sure of it. This was no regular dream, Harry, this was a premonition, it had to be, it was much too vivid to be a normal dream. James found a way to study Voldemort up close – he's already developed his fascination with the Dark Arts! Harry, we've got to do something! We've got to do something before he turns into Tom!"

* * *

The moment Harry came back from Quidditch practice with the Puddlemere United (he still could not believe he had flown a _Firebolt_ with a professional Quidditch team!) he was beat and aching all over, but when he recalled Draco's promise his body filled with energy. The prospect of sharing a bed with Draco Malfoy made him quiver with expectation. He had had many lovers before, but all of them had been female. Now he craved a man. And he had never craved anyone like this before; he had never yearned so desperately for another person before, male or female. What he had felt when he kissed Draco earlier that day had been so pure... he had never experienced anything of the sort before, and it was brilliant.

He said an indifferent "Hey" to Piper as he passed her on his way towards the staircase. She asked him how it had gone, and he told her he still got it. Although the professional players played in a completely different league from what he was used to during his school days, it had not been all that difficult for him to catch up – and he had caught the Snitch every time.

"What's for dinner?" he asked over his shoulder. "I'm starving!"

"Oh, I don't know... I haven't really thought about it... It's so different now that Draco's not here. He used to do the cooking. Well... I'll think of something. You want me to start right away?"

"Yeah, please do," Harry said, because that would keep her busy and far, far away from Draco's bedroom where Harry planned to spend the next hour or two. He took the stairs two at a time and reached the third floor as quickly as he could manage. Stomach filled with butterflies, he knocked on the bedroom door.

"Who is it?" Draco's voice called from the other side.

"It's me," Harry said as indifferently as he could.

The door was instantly flung open and almost knocked him down. Fortunately he jumped aside just in time, otherwise he probably would have wound up with a broken nose or worse. "Oh, sorry," Draco said, "must've been a little too eager there. Come in." He was wearing moss green robes and a black cloak over that, and his silver blond hair was neatly styled. Harry was quite impressed that he had managed to do something with that shoulder-length, wild hair – and he liked it.

He smiled up into his pale face, drawing closer until their noses were just two inches apart. "Miss me?" he asked teasingly.

"Awfully," the blonde replied, and pressed his lips to Harry's.

They had reached yet another unspoken agreement, but this time it was not to pretend as if nothing had happened between them; this time it was quite the opposite. The attraction between them was so strong that neither of them could deny it anymore, so they had silently agreed to act on it and go with the flow.

Harry placed his hands on the blonde's shoulders and began to remove the heavy black cloak. "Why're you wearing this inside?" he asked between kisses.

It slipped down Draco's back and got stuck around his wrists.

The blonde's tongue was on his cheek.

"I was just outside," he replied, his hot breath on Harry's prickling skin.

Harry freed Draco's hands from the sleeves of the cloak.

Draco's tongue played along his jawline; he bit down on his earlobe.

The cloak fell to the floor; he kicked it away.

"Outside?" Harry said, swallowing hard as the blonde licked away at his ear.

He tugged at Harry's blue Quidditch robes, fumbled for naked skin.

His lips to Harry's ear, he whispered, "Needed... fresh air."

As much as he loved this tentative game, Harry was starting to get impatient, and Draco seemed to know nothing about Quidditch robes, so he pulled them off himself. Then he undid Draco's robes and let them fall to the floor, too. Dressed only in wizard's trousers now, their upper bodies bared, they looked deep into each others eyes.

The blonde traced a finger on the raven-haired man's chest.

Harry shuddered with anticipation.

There was a knock on the door.

Both stiffened.

"Draco? Are you in there?" It was Piper's voice. So typical of her to ruin the mood every time they were getting anywhere. "You have a visitor."

"Vi... visitor?" Draco called with a disappointed tone.

"Yeah, Ron's here to see you. Do you know where Harry is? I can't find him, and I could swear he walked up to the third floor just five minutes ago."

Draco bit his lower lip. "Harry?" he echoed. "No, I have no idea where he is. I just came up here myself, I've been outside all afternoon. You want me to look for him?"

"Would you? Thanks, bro." She went back down the hall.

Harry sighed resignedly. "Seems as if there's always an interruption," he complained, disheartened.

Draco lovingly caressed his cheek. "Don't worry, we'll have our time," he promised. "I want you just as much as you want me, and I'm bloody fed up waiting – but if we're going to keep this secret we better go downstairs and be sociable for twenty minutes."

Harry sighed again. "Okay."

They put their robes back on and walked downstairs together, both straining to suppress their frustration. Ron was standing in front of the oval disc that functioned as a portal to their world, peering inside with a bewildered expression in his face. "What's this?" he asked, apparently hearing their approach. He stretched out his finger as if to touch it.

"Don't!" Harry said sharply.

Ron jerked and jumped back from the portal.

"That's the doorway to the Dark Plane – you do not want to go there, believe me," Harry told him. "Our world is nothing like yours."

The redhead scowled. "You two seem to have... buried the axe," he pointed out somewhat awkwardly. "Reach an understanding, did you? Good."

Harry sat down in one of the armchairs. "Is this a social call or has something happened?"

"No, no, this is definitely a social call," Ron assured him.

"Great. Where's Hermione? I haven't seen her around at all. You guys have a fight as usual?" He grabbed a few grapes from the fruit ball on the coffee table and threw one into his mouth.

Ron stared at him for a long while before answering. "Harry... Hermione is dead."

Harry froze. "What? She's dead? How did that happen?"

Ron told them about the unfortunate events that had taken place at the Manor six years previous.

"You don't have any Hermione in this world?" Draco concluded.

"No."

"Lucky you," both Draco and Harry said longingly.

Ron raised his eyebrows in bafflement. "What makes you say that?"

"Well, she's a bloody pain in the arse, obviously!" Draco exclaimed irritably.

"She's been a real nuisance the past three years," Harry said. "She's always so awkward around me nowadays. Can't seem to put aside the fact that we slept together."

Draco dropped his wand on the floor with a loud _clank_!

"You slept with her?!" he and Ron yelled in unison.

"Yeah." Harry shrugged. "It was just something that happened after Ron died. We were both rather miserable and feeling lonely... Oh, come on! Don't look so shocked – it was just sex! It happened once – unlike with Ginny..."

Ron stiffened. "Ginny? You slept with my sister, too?"

"Unfortunately. But I couldn't make her understand that it was a mistake so she sort of announced herself my girlfriend. Been ever since, and for some reason she thinks I like slutty girls when I don't like girls at all." Directly after saying that, he realised his mistake. But it was too late to take it back.

"You... you don't like girls at all?" Ron repeated. "So, you mean to say you like blokes, then? I sort of got the impression you were straight in that world – no offense, Harry. Are you and Draco, then...?"

"No," Harry said firmly. "Like I said, I'm with Ginny. Have to do something about that, won't I?" He sighed deeply. "I do not want to return to those two anytime soon."

"Er... those two? You mean Hermione's still alive in your world?"

"Unfortunately," both Harry and Draco said with resignation.

They never could have anticipated what he was about to do; without another word he took the final step into the Dark Plane.

* * *

"Who are you?"

Ron swirled around towards the low, melancholy voice that had spoken. A boy about sixteen with light blond hair and dazzling green eyes was studying him from the other side of the small, empty, white-walled room. He was so strikingly like Draco in his facial features and body structure that Ron assumed him to be that son they were always talking about – the one that came to visit them from the future now and then. This was the first time Ron had come face to face with him, though, and it gave him the creeps. This boy gave off fine vibrations of pure evil.

"Oh, it's you," the boy suddenly said with disgust. "What are you doing here? You're not supposed to be here. There is no-one to take your place if you leave your own world. You're risking the existence of time itself by coming here."

Ron did not understand a word the boy was saying. "I'm... I'm here to get Hermione," he said insecurely. Regardless of how strange that sounded, it was true. The moment he had learnt that Hermione was alive in this reality, he had made up his mind; he was going to get her. He needed to know what might have been if Hermione had not died. For six years he had unconsciously been searching for answers, and now he was going to get them.

The boy seemed to be able to read his mind. With a thoughtful expression, he scratched his chin. "Really? How interesting... I like it. All right, you may go inside. But remember; time is on you now."

Ron still did not get a word the boy was saying, but he nodded simply to get away from him. That boy gave him the heebie jeebies, and he hoped that Harry's son was nothing like him.

* * *

Draco's back slammed into the wall beside the bed, and Harry pressed himself onto him, desperately tearing his robes off his tensed body. They kissed hungrily, almost eating each other up. Hands travelling all over each other's bodies, they fell onto the bed, Harry squirming to get out of his robes. He desperately placed semi-hard, quick kisses on the blonde's neck, shoulders, and chest while simultaneously unbuttoning and pulling off his trousers. The blonde gasped for breath and clasped Harry's shoulders. Forced him around on his back. Straddled him. Harry looked up into his glittering, grey eyes, mesmerised. Why had not he noticed how beautiful they were before?

Draco gently, tentatively pulled his trousers off, exposing prickled skin. Tenderly, sensuously, he caressed and stroked Harry's thighs, up and down in sweeping movements, as if to protest to the desperation they had moved with just a moment ago. Slowly, slowly, much too slowly, he removed Harry's boxers, and then his own. Suddenly hesitant, he stopped, and searched for comfort in Harry's eyes. "I don't know how to do this," he said almost apologetically, "I've never done this with a man before."

"Neither have I," Harry murmured. "Just go with it. You'll know what to do."

He nodded and carefully lay down on top of Harry, steadied himself—

And suddenly he knew exactly what to do.

So did Harry. When Draco was ready to enter him, he lifted the lower part of his body slightly off the bed in welcome. The moment they were joined was like a bolt of thunder. It was as if they had both been waiting for this moment as long as they had lived. Draco would have wanted their first time to be sweet and prolonged, but they were both too eager for that. Both filled with pent-up sexual frustration that had plagued them for several years without their knowledge, they moved at a crazy rate that took their breaths away.

Draco thrust deep into the raven-haired man beneath him, rocking his hips obscenely, while Harry eagerly rose to meet him. Muscles whispered sweet love stories as skin smashed against skin, making that unmistakable sound of friction – poetry in Draco's ear. He bent low without breaking his rhythm, the hallowed rhythm, and put his lips to Harry's soft neck. The raven-haired man raised his arm and buried his fingers in the blonde's tousled, untidy hair. Until then, not a single sound had escaped them except their strained breathing, but now Draco could not hold back anymore; he had to give voice to everything that he felt. Uttering moans and grunts of pleasure, he thrust harder, deeper, faster, feeling Harry's body clench around him, and he forced more power into his hips, more—

Harry found his ear and bit down on his earlobe. Draco gasped, arched his back. Trembling fingers travelled up and down his back; fingertips bore into his shoulderblades. Draco momentarily lost balance – he concentrated too much on the wonderful sensation of those hot, tentative hands on his back – and slid at an odd angle inside Harry.

Harry cried out in sudden euphory, and startled Draco. Did he do that? Marvelling at the raven-haired man's strange response to that temporary mistake, he did the same thing again and elicited the same sort of ecstatic cry. Encouraged by his lover's new behaviour, he shifted his weight and began to thrust towards that special spot every time, harder and faster than ever before, while Harry thrashed and bucked beneath him, his face screwed up in painful pleasure. Watching him writhe – almost too ecstatic to bear it, the pleasure being too much for him to handle – Draco felt his own excitement increase, and he wanted to come even deeper into the warmth of Harry, wanted them to be joined like this for ever. A strange tinkling sensation began to rise from his crotch, spreading through the pit of his stomach and out into each and every limb and muscle of his body. A shudder developed. Biting down hard on Harry's neck, he felt the other man wrap his legs around him and squeeze around his buttocks; as Harry evidently reached a peak in his pleasure so strong it completely destroyed him, he pressed down upon Draco's behind, forcing him deeper than deep inside him, and his desperate cry rang in the blonde's ears.

Being forced so bluntly inside this beautiful creature, Draco exploded in a rain of stars, his nervous system going haywire as he reached the ultimate climax. For a moment time appeared to be standing still, but then the spell broke and he fell down onto Harry's chest, panting and shuddering.

The raven-haired man closed his arms around him once more, and kissed the top of his head. "I've never felt anything like that before in my life," he whispered, awestruck.

"Me neither," Draco murmured, eyes shut and cheek comfortably resting on Harry's chest.

Tenderly stroking the blonde's back, Harry asked, "May I stay here with you tonight?"

"Yes, you'd better! I don't want you to leave now, silly. I want you to sleep beside me, for ever."

He kissed his blond hair again. "I'll never leave. I love you."

* * *

Creeping up on the Dark Lord was a perilous business, and avoiding the Death Eaters an impossible one. Yet they managed to steal up to the Manor and hide themselves in a particularly bushy patch of shrubbery. Apparently the residents of this universe gave no thought to exterior appearances; there had not been anything done to the garden in ages. Harry thought it was eerie, seeing the grounds around the Manor so overgrown and unattended, because he was used to flowers and bushes and trees bristling with every colour imaginable. But this time's Piper could probably care less for gardening; according to Draco, she was a deranged, vicious, cold-hearted, weapon-crazy, sadistic kamikaze who enjoyed watching people suffer and cursed her subordinates for no obvious reason just because she was bored. Harry did not wish to meet her.

When they had been stationed in their bush for nearly an hour without the slightest sign of either James or the Dark Lord – or anyone else, at that matter – Harry started to get impatient. His muscles were tinkling with the need to act, and had it not been for Draco's presence he probably would have turned kamikaze himself and launched himself at one of the French windows.

After another hour of dull wait, Draco poked him in the back with the tip of his wand.

"What?" Harry said. "You see anything?"

Draco turned to frown at him. "What? I haven't said anything."

"No, but you poked me in the back."

"No, I didn't."

A really bad feeling piercing his heart like a knife, Harry reluctantly turned around to check who had poked him if Draco had not – and found a dozen or so Death Eaters standing behind them.

* * *

Piper could not sleep. She just kept tossing and turning in her bed, and the fact that Yousuke snored softly did not comfort her now, but annoyed her immensely. Ultimately she got out of bed and decided to use her excess energy for something good instead. It was only three in the morning, so the Manor was completely silent – except for Yousuke's snoring, that is. She decided to do what she always did when she had trouble sleeping; concoct a new potion.

For that, she needed material and facts. Books.

Careful not to make too much noise, she sneaked up the stairs to the third floor with the intention to fetch a few books from the library. But when she reached the top of the stairs, she stopped, listening. She did not know exactly what it was, but there was something different about the third floor. Something in the air. Furrowing her brow, she turned to gaze down the left hallway towards her brother's room.

The door was ajar.

It was too tempting. She could not resist it.

Silently, slowly, carefully she crept up to the door and peered inside.

A shocked gasp escaped her.

Draco was not alone in bed – Harry was lying beside him! They were spooning, butt naked beneath the thin, white sheets, and the blonde's arms were closed protectively around the tasty Quidditch player.

They had had sex.

And they had told her nothing had happened! She could not _believe_ that they had begrudged her the pleasure of wallowing in the delicious stories of their sex life! The nerve of it! That was a right as a sister! One of the privileges of siblinghood!

Now she surely would not be able to sleep at all.

Although irritated with the two of them for keeping this a secret from her, she wore a very kinky smile when she left the room that night.

_(To be continued...)_

"Mada, watashi wa hanarenai kara... saa, dakishimete"

* * *

**_I'm sorry if it's a bit confusing for you when there are two Dracos and two Harrys and their separate stories intertwine like this! I just thought it'd be awfully irritating if I wrote "Parallel Harry" and "Parallel Draco" at the beginning of every passage about them... Besides, it would sort of be unsuitable for the story since the parallel Harry and Draco don't think of themselves as being parallel... Ah, I hope you understand what I'm trying to tell you with my rambling. (sweat-drops)_**


	48. PU part six: Get James

**Rating:** PG-17

**Pairing:** H/D

**Disclaimer:** All the characters belong to J.K. Rowling, except for my 'babies' Piper, Timothy, James, Joz, Jonathan Kelly, and the Sakanoues.

**Disclaimer II:** Golden made up the nickname "Dracums", I'm merely borrowing it...

**A/N:** Has anyone missed that 9 inches is about 23 centimetres? Can anyone blame Draco for hesitating when he's trying to decide whether he should succumb to his feelings or not? (hehe)

* * *

**Parallel Universe, part six:  
Get James**

It was extremely dissatisfactory to be caught outside their own home – or at least what _usually_ was their home – long before they could locate James and bring him safely back home. Now it seemed so stupid of them to hang around in the bushes – they should have used Draco's status as general or whatever to get _inside_ the Manor and operate from there. They could have used Harry's Invisibility Cloak! Or, wait... Did he really have an Invisibility Cloak in this reality? If his parents were still alive and working for Voldemort, his father hardly would have given him that Cloak for Christmas. But they could have claimed that Harry had decided to come back to his parents, that he had decided to rejoin the Dark side or something. Or they could have said that Draco controlled Harry with the Imperius Curse...

Wait a minute... The Imperius Curse! That was it! There was still a way to save their arses.

"Stand up!" one of the Death Eaters commanded.

Before Draco could stand up, Harry whispered urgently from the corner of his mouth, so silently that only the blonde would hear since they were sitting so close. "You're under the Imperius Curse," he told him. "Don't do anything of your own volition, just follow my lead and try to look blank, OK?"

He slowly rose from the ground, and almost exhaled violently in relief when Draco remained in the bushes. He held his wand at his side, pointing towards the ground, but he trusted his reflexes to be quick enough if he needed to use it.

A few of the Death Eaters glared down at the blonde. "Why aren't you getting up?" one of them inquired fiercely. "I told you to get up!"

The blonde still remained on the ground, a glazed look in his pale grey eyes.

"_GET UP_!"

"He's under the Imperius Curse," Harry informed him arrogantly, and feigned a self-righteous attitude and stuck out his chin in a very defiant fashion. Nonchalantly, he directed his wand at the blonde. "You want him to stand up? All right." Draco took his cue and slowly, awkwardly rose from the ground with dirt all over his expensive robes, but he did not attempt to brush it off. He just stood there immobile, staring out into thin air. Harry made a mental note to tell him how good he was at acting blank later. Turning anew to the gathered Death Eaters, he said, "I wish to see my parents," because that was the only thing he could come up with to get them safely inside the Manor.

Three of the Death Eaters made to launch themselves at him, but he simply waved his wand close to Draco's head and tutted.

"How much is your general worth to you? Are you willing to risk his life and risk losing the war just 'cos you stopped me from seeing my parents, which by the way is a child's right?"

They backed off, hesitating.

Harry smirked self-satisfied at them. "Take me to them."

All the way inside, Draco walked in front of Harry like a zombie, clumsily lifting and putting down his heavy feet. Harry hated using him like that, but it was their only shot of finding James and getting out of there alive. They were led to one of the inner rooms in the west wing of the first floor, a room that Harry and Draco normally did not use in their own world, and as far as Harry could see, there were no other Death Eaters on the ground floor. That alarmed him. Where were they? Why was security so light?

Apparently the room they were led to functioned as some sort of study; two desks stood against one of the walls. Two people were in the room. A man with untidy, black hair that stood straight up at the back of his head were standing with his back to them, looking out of the window. A woman with long copper hair and startling green eyes was sitting behind one of the desks, swiftly scribbling something down on a piece of parchment. Her quill moved elegantly by the move of her feminine hand.

Harry froze in the doorway. As soon as he saw them he knew he'd made a mistake. He never should have asked to be taken to his parents – he should have known it was the worst thing to do. Seeing them like that... alive... _Dark_... He did not want his mental picture of them to be destroyed. Therefore he tried to tell himself that these people were not his parents – they were merely Parallel Replicas.

One of the Death Eaters escorting them cleared his throat loudly to catch the couple's attention. "There's someone here to... er... see you," he said, and then they all withdrew, leaving Harry and Draco alone with the Potters.

The moment his mother looked up from her work, her eyes widened with surprise, and when his father turned around his face was distorted by a deep scowl.

Harry did not know what to say.

He did not know these people.

"Harry?" Lily said, and slowly rose from her desk, not fully believing her eyes.

Harry struggled to remain calm and nonchalant, but his legs were shaking. _Oh, please, don't let me faint now_, he thought pleadingly. He wished that Draco could have reassured him, but when you're under the Imperius Curse you don't move unless you're told to. Pulling himself together, he swallowed hard, and tried to act as arrogant as he had done with the Death Eaters. "Yes, it's me all right," he said indifferently.

His mother gasped and clasped a hand over her mouth. "Have you... have you come back to us?" she wondered weakly.

Harry found it extremely hard to imagine this woman doing anybody harm, let alone use the Unforgivable Curses on people. But he knew that looks could be deceiving and that many Death Eaters were great actors in order to hide their true identities from others. "No," he said sternly, "I've come to get someone."

"Get someone?" his father echoed. "And what are you doing with our commander?"

"Him?" Harry said, and pushed Draco hard in the small of his back. The blonde fell heavily forward and landed on the floor like a heap of lifeless flesh: _THUD!_ An invisible knife pierced Harry's heart. He hated treating his lover like that, hated it, and he hoped he had not hurt him. He would have to give Draco a bloody big treat once this was over. A physical treat. Hating himself for doing it – this would cost him another three hundred Galleons in therapy fees – he kicked the blonde in the side. Not hard. He made it look like he kicked him hard, but he did not, could not. "Oh, I just put a little curse on him, nothing serious. He'll be within my control until I relent my influence on his poor little brain."

"Why, you..!" His father had raised his own wand and directed it at him in seconds. Obviously he understood perfectly well what curse Harry had supposedly put on Draco, and planned to direct the same one at Harry. "Imperio!"

The voice inside Harry's head was so weak and distant that it was easy to ignore. He broke free in a matter of seconds. Laughing mockingly, he shook his head. "I'm sorry, that won't work on me – I know how to fight it." When his father prepared to utter another curse, he laughed even harder. "There's no use trying, they won't work. I'm immune to the Unforgivable Curses."

Now James Potter laughed, but it was an uncertain chortle. "Immune to the Unforgivable Curses? You can't be _immune_ to the Unforgivable Curses! That is ridiculous!"

"No?" Harry said defiantly. "If you don't believe me, take a look at this." He tapped his forehead with the tip of his wand and uttered an advanced spell that would reverse the magic that Bond had used to cover his scar. When it reappeared above his right eyebrow, Lily and James started back in fright. "See?" Harry said now. "I've survived the death curse four times already, and the Cruciatus Curse feels like a tickle to me—" This was a lie, but they did not know that. "—so I would advice you to re-evaluate your options. I'm here for James. Where is he?"

His parents blinked sheepishly at him.

That was when he realised that he had not told him who he was yet. "Right," he said. "You think I'm your son..."

"You're not Harry?" James Potter asked, stunned. "Then who are you?"

"Oh, I'm Harry all right. I'm just not _your_ Harry. I'm from a Parallel Universe, and I'm here for my son, James. Where is he?"

His parents peered down at the blonde. "And him?" his father asked.

"He's my hostage," Harry said, because he wanted to protect Draco as much as possible. "I lured him into a little trap and put the Imperius Curse on him. Funny how different he is from my Draco, not at all as sweet and loving."

"Er... _your_ Draco?"

Harry shrugged. "Yeah, we're married."

He had never seen two people as shocked as that. Their chins were hanging down to their knees.

"Ma-_married_?!" Lily echoed. "To Draco Malfoy?" She looked down at the blonde again.

"Yeah, but that's not him, though. That's _your_ Draco, the commander or general or whatever you call him. My Draco's back home trying to control _your_ Harry and prevent him from burning down our house. He's quite the vital one." He surveyed the room. "I can't get over how different the Manor looks. We tried a somewhat different decorational style ourselves. All right. Enough small talk. Where – is – James?"

"Right here."

Harry swirled around. Lord Voldemort was standing in the doorway, and five-year-old James was standing right next to him _holding his hand_. A cold shiver travelled down Harry's spine. No. It could not be true.

Voldemort wore a hideous smile. "So we meet again – Harry Potter," he said delightedly.

"Sorry to disappoint you, but my name is Harry Malfoy," Harry said between clenched teeth.

"Dadaaa!" the boy exclaimed and ran up to him.

Harry closed his arms around his son. "Hey there, little one," he said. He was starting to get alarmed by the fact that Draco had not gotten up from the floor at the arrival of their boy. What if he really _had_ been hurt in the fall? He might be unconscious. Surely Draco was not a good enough actor to stay down at a time like this?

He straightened up again, facing Voldemort. "I'm taking my son and leaving now, thank you," he announced with hostility. Then he directed his wand at the limp blonde. "And I'm taking my hostage, too. Up you go, little ragdoll. Dance for me."

Draco instantly got up on his feet, more gracefully now than before because Harry had used the word 'dance'. Instead of walking normally (read 'clumsily') he danced, making funny little piruettes as he moved along the floor.

"Why is Daddy dancing?" James asked curiously.

"That's not Daddy, dear," Harry lied as he pretended to direct Draco towards the doorway, "he just looks like him."

James prodded the blonde's hip with his forefinger. "Cool," he concluded.

"You can play later, James," Harry told him harshly, "now let's get the Hell out of here."

"You're not supposed to say 'Hell'," the boy reminded him.

"Swear rules don't apply here. _Now move_."

To his surprise, the Dark Lord moved aside and let them pass.

The blonde piruetted past him and disappeared down the hall.

Harry scooped up James into his arms and hurried after him.

The Dark Lord did not try to stop them, and it alarmed Harry. He just let them go. It seemed way too easy. Way too easy...

* * *

When Draco woke up and found Harry in his arms, he freaked out. Everything that they had shared, everything that they had both felt...

_"I'll never leave. I love you."_

...it was too much for him to bear, he just had to get out of there. Swiftly, but silently, he slid out of the bed and began to search for his clothes. He put them on in a hurry. Before he left the room, he cast one last glance at Harry, who was still fast asleep with his black hair messier than usual and his bare arm hanging out over the edge of the bed. Another surge of utter terror washed over him, and he ran. He ran all the way down the stairs, into the parlour, and out through the back door, ran all the way down to the lake. Not until then did he stop. Panting, he bent double and supported his hands on his knees. The fresh air helped a little.

A breeze caught his hair and blew it into his face.

Cursing, he tried to put it behind his ears, but after a few minutes of unnecessary fight with the wild, blond strands, he gave up, and pulled out his wand. Furiously, he shouted a spell that effectively cut his hair. It felt relieving and emancipating to finally have short hair again.

He gazed out over the water.

In twenty-three years, he had never loved before. Not even his own mother. In twenty-three years he had never allowed himself to feel anything at all; he needed to be cold-blooded and vigilant to command the Dark forces. And now, here he was, _feeling_.

He loved Harry.

That scared him, because he did not know what to make of it.

_"I'll never leave. I love you."_

Harry's words echoed through his confused mind, over and over.

_"I'll never leave. I love you."_

Would he really stay for ever? Would Draco even _allow him _to stay? What's to say he would not push him away, like he pushed everything else away? And what about that Weasley girl – Binny or whatever her name was? Would Harry ever be able to break it off with her? Because he had said that he'd never been able to tell her it was a mistake to sleep with her – he had led her on to believe that they were a couple – and he had been doing it for three years! Would he ever leave Binny?

There were too many uncertainties to risk getting hurt. He just could not do it. He had managed to go through twenty-three years of cold-heartedness, and he was not willing to turn all squeamish only to be left in a couple of months! Then what would he have to return to? Nothing.

"Good morning," Harry said with a way too wide smile when Draco went back inside to have breakfast and found him sitting at the dining room table. "Why'd you leave bed so early without waking me?"

Draco gave him a cold look. "Since when am I responsible for your getting up in the morning?" he grunted, and slumped down in a chair. He snatched a slice of bread and conjured a plate of eggs, bacon, and sausages.

The smile effectively faded from the raven-haired man's face. He blinked in confusion. "Well... I didn't mean it like that, I just..." He fell silent.

That was just as good; then Draco would not have to make strained conversation with him. He started to wolf down his eggs and bacon.

He could feel Harry glaring at him, so he looked up over his plate of fat. "Wha'?" he prodded unpleasantly, his mouth stuffed full with sausage.

"Nothing. You're... different, is all."

Draco swallowed. "Different?" he echoed sceptically. "Take a good glance backwards in time, because this is how I've always been. You're good, I'm bad. Right? Now shut up and let me eat my breakfast in peace. I can't believe you always have to talk so bloody much, just leave well enough alone, will you?"

Harry looked disbelievingly at him for a few long seconds before he rose from the table and left the dining room.

* * *

Ron did not exactly have a plan, but he figured he would know what to do once he saw her. Unfortunately, he did not. When he laid eyes on Hermione across the living room at the Black house, he froze. She was the only one in the room. And she looked beautiful. He just stood there, watching her, for the longest time.

Almost as if sensing that she was being watched, she looked up. When she saw him her eyes widened. "Ron?" she whispered. "But you're dead..."

He still could not speak, so he just shook his head.

When she realised he was not dead, she gave a shriek of joy and ran over to him. To his surprise, she threw her arms around him and kissed him on the cheek. "Ron, you're alive!" she laughed. But then she withdrew, a frown on her face. "But how can you be alive? I saw you being killed by Draco, I..." Her eyes darkened. "Harry's with Draco. He claims to have fallen in love with him."

"I know," Ron said, finally able to speak, "but it's not the way you think. He's not your Harry. He's from a Parallel Universe, and he's switched places with your Harry to find his son." Seeing her confused expression, he sacrificed fifteen minutes to explain everything to her. Luckily, he did not need to tell her more than once, because she had read all there was to know about Parallel Universes and what happened when you entered one.

"So that was Harry and Draco from your world?" she stated meaningfully. "I see. And they've been together ever since their fifth year at Hogwarts? How odd. And they're even married?"

"Yeah. Harry took his name, would you believe that?"

"Harry took Draco's name?!"

"Yep. He's Harry Malfoy now. Harry James Andrew Joseph Potter-Malfoy. Quite a name, eh?"

"It's... striking."

Hermione did not need much persuasion to come back with him to his world; turned out she was already in love with him. Or, well, with the Ron that she had watched die, but still... That was pretty fantastic, at that. And it felt pretty amazing to hold her hand.

The blond boy – supposedly Harry's son, but he still did not know for sure – came as soon as he had called for him and took him back into that empty, white-walled room. He was even unfriendlier and harsher than last time, and he gave off even stronger vibrations of evil, so Ron wanted to get away from him as soon as possible. He wondered how Harry could trust that lad, he did not seem to be the least bit trustworthy.

When they stepped out through the portal in the Malfoys' parlour, there was a verbal war going on.

"I can't believe you just said that!" Harry was yelling at Draco in an incredulous tone. "I was just trying to be nice, you know!"

"What's the use? We're just going to be archenemies again once we step into our own world!"

"So? Does that mean we can't enjoy ourselves while we're here?"

"Enjoy ourselves? _Enjoy ourselves?! _Is that what you call it? I _gave myself_ to you, and you say you were just _enjoying yourself_?!" Draco shrieked at the top of his lungs.

Harry seemed to have difficulty finding the right reply for that. Then he yelled, "At least I didn't diss you at breakfast!"

That seemed to be a lame attempt at calming the blonde down, because Draco just pulled out his wand and waved it threateningly in front of himself. "Don't you dare!" he shouted. "And don't you think I wouldn't do it, because I would, you know!"

Ron felt obliged to explain the scene to Hermione. He pointed at the two rowing men. "_That's_ your Harry," he said, "and _that's_ the Draco that killed the other me."

"I had already figured that out from their hostility," Hermione assured him. "But what's all this about 'enjoying themselves' and Draco giving himself to Harry?"

"I don't know. They were quite friendly towards one another when I left, and that was—" He consulted his watch. "—yesterday afternoon, so approximately twenty-four hours ago."

"Fine! Just run away again, Draco! Fine with me! You'll have to talk to me sooner or later!"

The blonde had left through the back door and was currently rushing through the garden, heading for the lake. Harry cursed and kicked his foot down hard on the wooden floor.

"How are you, mate?" Ron asked. "Is everything all right?"

Harry looked up at them, spotting them for the first time. "Oh, you found her," he stated. "Hey, Hermione. Harry and Draco giving you a hard time with their boy love?"

She blushed, and squirmed uncomfortably. "No. Yes, at first they did, but... then I didn't know who they were. I thought they were you, and I was... I was a bit shocked, is all. I'm fine now."

"Good to hear. Look, I should go out and see if Draco's OK... Bye."

He hurried out into the sunshine.

They blinked after him.

"Am I the only one who thought that was a bit fishy?" Ron asked.

Having Hermione there made him feel light at heart. It was alomst like being back at school, when the three of them had been as tight as friends could be. And thinking that, he realised that that was what he wanted to remember when he thought about Hermione. He did not want a misguiding image of her as a girl who was willing to have a relationship with him; he wanted to remember her just the way she had been when they had been at school. And then he realised that he did not need her to be there to know what he wanted. He had known what he wanted for more than three years, he just had not thought about it that way.

Hermione was not what he wanted. She was a thing of the past – his first love. He had pined for her in secret for many years, but she had not shown him any interest even after she learnt about his feelings. And then she had died. When he learnt that she was alive in that other reality, that Parallel Universe, his first thought had been to snatch Hermione and give his long lost boy dreams a try. But he had forgotten one important thing, the most important thing: He was no boy anymore.

Hermione was not what he wanted.

He wanted Jonathan. His husband. There was nothing else in the world that he yearned for; he already had everything that he needed.

Looking at Hermione, he knew that she had sensed the truth. She knew that he had already made his choice – and she had not been chosen.

Someone lay a hand on his shoulder. When he looked up, he expected to find Harry standing there, back from his walk in the garden, but to his surprise a blond boy stood there. It was the same boy that had greeted him in that strange Parallel Universe called the Dark Plane, but this boy had nothing of that boy's cold-heartedness, and he certainly did not give off an aura that reeked of evil. This boy had pleasant features and was not dressed all in black, but in expensive green silk, a sign that he was truly the son of Draco Malfoy. His startling green eyes were sad and weary, but they were friendly and open. "You have created a severe breach in the fabric of time," the boy said, and then he lifted his gaze to look at Hermione. "You need to give her back."

Ron nodded slowly. "I got my answers, anyway," he said somewhat melancholy.

The boy met his eyes anew. "You should tell Jonathan that," he said in that intriguing, low, melodic voice of his. Then, taking Hermione's hand in his, he led her back to the portal. "You will have your Harry back in a couple days. I can sense my fathers have finally found my brother. They will be returning shortly. You will meet my Parallel Self on the other side – he will tell you the procedure."

Ron watched her disappear, not with sorrow, but with relief.

* * *

"Harry! You're back safely!" Sirius came to meet them when they got back to the Black house, his arms open and a huge, fatherly smile on his freshly shaved face. He spotted James and squatted down on the floor. "And this must be the son you've been telling me so much about. Hello there. My name's Sirius, and I'm your father's godfather."

James blinked up at Sirius with huge, fascinated eyes. "Is that like an extra papa?" he asked.

Sirius laughed, and roughed the little boy's raven black hair. "Yes, that's like an extra papa. So maybe you can say that Harry's got two daddies."

The boy's face lit up. "Just like I do," he said delightedly.

"Just like you do."

Once they were back, Draco dropped his zombie act and gently shook his head to clear it. "Man, that was really wearying. Remind me never to get 'immobilised' again, OK?"

Sirius studied the blonde with furrowed brows.

As soon as Draco turned normal again, Harry was all over him, figuratively speaking smothering him with anxious questions. "Are you all right? Are you hurt? Did I push you too hard? Did you feel guilty about what I said back there? Did I offend you? Let me see your back, Draco. Is that how you landed? You landed on your back? Tut tut, it looked bad, that fall – did you land bad? Oh, baby, you have like a million bruises... does it hurt bad? Do you want me to kiss your pain away?"

Draco indignantly brushed him off. "No, I want you to leave me the fuck alone and stop being so bloody overprotective all the time! I won't break just 'cos I fall once, you know! Unless you didn't notice, I was breaking my fall quite good, thank you. Don't you think I can fake an injury? And stop looking at me like that!"

James watched them with confusion in his huge, boyish green eyes. "But I thought he wasn't Daddy – I thought he was just a stranger who looked like Daddy and acted funny," he pointed out, reminding Harry about his little white lie only a moment before.

"No, he is your real Daddy, all right," he told his son. "I just had to say that not to make those bad people suspicious."

"But they're not bad! They're really nice! They've been playing with me and giving me food and Chocolate Frogs and—"

"James, that was the Dark Lord and the Death Eaters – they are bad people, really bad people. They are evil and hurt other people for the sheer fun of it."

Now Sirius was looking thoroughly concerned. "What is this all about?" he demanded authoritatively.

Harry asked his godfather to sit down and recounted everything that had happened at the Manor. When he told him about his parents – or, his Parallel Parents, rather – he had to fight a big lump that was forming in his throat. It was difficult to speak. He just could not believe that they were evil. That they worked for Voldemort, whom he had fought so persistently for so many years. Even in this world he had fought him, but yet they had stayed by his side.

And now his own son seemed to have taken a liking to the Dark Lord.

Harry took James's little hand in both of his. "James, honey, why did you go to this world?" he asked him in a friendly voice. "What was it that you liked so much that you just left us without telling us where you went?"

The boy did not seem the least bit deterred by his father's obvious attempt to sweet-talk him. He merely shrugged and leant back against the back of the sofa. "I wanted to visit uncle Voldemort," he said casually.

Harry flinched as if someone had hit him hard around the face. In the corner of his eye, he could see Draco shoot up from his armchair like a rocket. "What the fuck do you mean by that?!" he yelled accusatory at the boy.

"Dracums," Harry warned between gritted teeth, "don't scare the boy to silence."

"He doesn't scare me," James assured them.

"No, because a child who calls the Dark Lord his uncle will hardly be afraid of anything!" Draco bellowed incredulously.

"Draco!"

The blonde fell silent and sat back down in his chair with his arms crossed over his chest, pouting.

Harry returned his attention to the boy. "James, why are you calling Voldemort 'uncle'?"

"Because he said he would take care of me like an uncle does," James replied sincerely. "And he played with me just like uncle Ron always does – and uncle Jonathan! Uncle Jonathan is so much fun to play with! Uncle Voldemort isn't as fun to play with as uncle Jonathan, but he taught me some stuff."

Harry felt a cold dagger pierce his heart. "Taught you some stuff? What stuff exactly?"

Now James almost bounced up and down in his seat with excitement. "He let me borrow his wand and taught me some spells – it was really fun! I know how to stun people now! Ain't I good, Dada?"

This was just what he had been afraid of. That Voldemort was teaching James ways of attacking other people. Stunning Spells were not dangerous and were easy enough to reverse, but it was nonetheless alarming that the Dark Lord had been teaching his son how to use one.

"Did he teach you anything else?" he asked bitterly.

"Yes, he taught me loads of stuff, Dada! He taught me how to... how to... impede people!"

"The Impediment Jinx?"

"Yeah, that's the one! And it was really fun to watch all those Death Eaters move in slow-motion. Then he taught me how to curse people."

"He taught you _what_?!" Harry expelled exasperatedly.

Once again, Draco flew up from his chair. "That fucking bastard! When I get my hands on him, I shall—"

"Calm down!" Sirius asked, gesturing to him to sit back down. "Nobody is going to run after Voldemort just 'cause this boy calls him uncle. I agree that it is much alarming that he has taught the boy jinxes and curses, but it would be foolish of you to go back to that Manor. What concerns me is that he let you go without so much as a fight."

"That concerns me too," Harry said with a deep scowl. "Why would he let me go when I supposedly held his top soldier hostage? Doesn't he fight Harry Potter in this universe?"

"Like you've never seen before," Sirius confirmed.

"Then why let us go? Why not try to capture me and 'save' his dear general?"

"Because there's no use saving the wrong Draco Malfoy," James said out of the blue.

They all turned to stare at him.

"What did you say?" Harry wondered weakly.

"There's no use saving the wrong Draco Malfoy, is there?" the boy repeated patiently. "I told him I was from another dimension and that my fathers would come looking for me sooner or later, so when you guys showed up he knew exactly who you were. He said he'd let you rescue me because he knew I'd come back to visit him."

Draco was having some sort of fit. "You are _not_ going back to visit him! Never! I forbid you from visiting him! You hear me?!"

"Dracums, you can't forbid him from visiting him – that'll just make him wanna go even more."

"Oh, yeah? But what the bloody Hell _can_ I do, then? I don't want my children associating with Voldemort, for fuck's sake!"

"Neither do I, but what can we do? He calls him uncle, for crying out loud!"

"I forbid you from doing that, too!" Draco yelled at the boy.

"Stop talking about me as if I wasn't here," James said dislikingly.

Harry glared at him. "Did he put a spell on you, too? Because you sure doesn't sound like any five-year-old boy I know!"

"How many other five-year-old boys _do you _know, father?" James retorted scornfully.

"Don't take that tone with me!"

"Then don't take _that_ tone with _me_!"

Obviously their conversation was not going anywhere, so the best they could do was call Bond over and ask him to open the portal for them. They needed to get out of there as fast as possible. But when the blond boy showed up, he had an offer for them that they could not refuse. He had evidently been in a conference with Tim, and they had both agreed of arranging a meeting with Parallel Harry and Parallel Draco so that they would be able to discuss everything that had happened with them. They needed to know what they were returning to, since Harry and Draco had led everyone to believe that they were now a couple.

Before they left, Harry told Sirius everything that he had wanted to tell the Sirius of his world after the events in the Department of Mysteries at the Ministry of Magic eight years ago. "It doesn't matter that you're not the same Sirius physically, because mentally and emotionally you are," he said to his godfather, and they both had tears in their eyes. "I love you, Sirius, and I will always love you and remember you. Take care of my Parallel Self, all right? Real good care."

Leaving him was the hardest thing Harry had ever done.

* * *

He caught up with the blonde in the west hallway of the third floor, and grabbed his arm. "Draco, please! Just listen to me!" he begged, and forced the blonde to turn around and face him. His grey eyes were dark with disgust. "Draco, have I done something wrong? Have I said something that upset you? Why are you avoiding me like this?"

"Isn't it obvious?" the blonde asked. "I don't like you, Potter. Why should I want to be around someone I don't like?"

It pained him to see Harry's hurt expression.

"What do you mean?" the raven-haired man asked in lack of understanding. "Last night—"

"Was just sex," Draco filled in for him, impatiently shifting his feet.

Harry looked stricken. "But you said... you asked me to stay, and you..."

"Because I was too tired to push you away."

"Too tired to push me away? You were clinging to me like a baby to his mother. You didn't want me to leave – you said so yourself, you wanted me to stay for ever. What's changed?"

The blonde's cold and steely grey eyes bored into his. "Nothing's change, Potter, you just misinterpreted the whole situation from the beginning."

"Misinterpreted? Draco, what— You can't mean that you actually— You said that— Draco, I love you. I've never been this sure of anything before in my life. I love you, and I don't want to lose you, not now when I know what it feels like to be with you. I want you to be mine."

Draco heavily pushed him away and passed him without so much as a look. "Too bad for you, then, because I don't love you. I hate you, Potter, and I don't ever want you to come near me again. Last night was just sex. I was horny, and you were the only person available to me. You can't expect me to fuck my own sister, can you? But don't worry, it won't happen again. I don't normally get turned on by guys."

He knew he had hurt him as bad as you could hurt another person, and all he wanted to do was to turn back and say he was sorry, but he forced himself to keep on walking and not turn back at any cost. He needed to forget about Harry and the amazing magic they had shared last night, because as soon as they returned to their world they would go back to their normal lives and there would be no more physical magic. So why lead themselves on like that? Harry had said it himself: He was with Ginny. All that crap about love... it was just a trick, that's what it was. He only wanted to 'enjoy himself' – he did not care about Draco's feelings.

He stopped around a corner and began to debate vividly with himself. "I don't need someone who just wants to 'enjoy himself', I can do better without him. He said it himself – as soon as we return home all of this will be over, and it will be as if it never happened, so what's the point?" he asked himself soberly. Then he moaned with a mixture of irritation and longing. "But nine fucking inches! And he probably knows exactly how to use them!" He swiftly shook his head to clear it of any daydreaming about Harry's thingy. "No! I will not think about that, it doesn't matter how great he is in bed... Nine fucking inches! Man! I hardly have seven myself..."

Suddenly it was as if Harry's words broke through a mental barrier deep inside his mind and came rushing towards him in a raging flood.

_"I love you, and I don't want to lose you, not now when I know what it feels like to be with you. I want you to be mine."_

Harry had said exactly what Draco had wanted to hear – and he had not listened.

He had pushed him away like he had pushed everything else away in his life to ensure him a perfect career in the Dark Army. But at what price? He had led an emotionless life, but Harry had changed him and made him feel something, and now he had thrown it away. Last night had been the best night in his life, because he had felt loved. Was it too late now?

"Oh, God, Harry...," he whispered as he realised what he had done. "I'm sorry..."

But the raven-haired man could not hear him now, of course. He needed to find him and tell him he _did_ want to be with him, tell him that he _did_ love him – he had just freaked out and become defensive.

Desperate to make everything right, he ran back up the west hallway in search of Harry.

* * *

Ron had never felt as happy and as ashamed before in his entire life when he returned home to Jonathan and was greeted with an embrace and a sweet kiss that tasted slightly of peach. His conscience was as guilty as any criminal's, and he told Jonathan all about his trip to the Dark Plane and what had happened afterwards as soon as they had seated themselves in the living room. When he had finished, Jonathan said, "Well, I can't lie to you, Ron. You were seriously considering to leave me for a girl from another dimension that looked and acted like your first love Hermione. Yes, I'm hurt, but I also love you, and the fact that you realised your mistake almost right away and came back to me is more important than the fact that you enjoyed boyish fantasies about a lost love."

Ron blinked at him in bewilderment. "Are you serious? You forgive me just like that?"

Jonathan smiled faintly. "What else can I do? You're my husband, remember? I'm stuck with you for the rest of my life, so what's the point in rowing with you about something as trivial as that?"

Ron gratefully pressed himself against Johnny's chest. "There's something I need to do," he said in a low, melancholy voice.

Jonathan accompanied him to the wizard cemetery that was well hidden somewhere in the middle of England. Solemnly, they walked down the grassy aisles between the tomb stones that marked each grave until they reached the G row.

They stopped in front of Hermione's grave.

Shuddering in the chilly breeze, Ron haunched down and placed the bouquet of flowers that they'd brought next to the others. Standing up again, he managed to smile faintly. And with a deep breath for comfort and support, he did something that he should have done years ago.

"Goodbye, Hermione."

They slowly walked back up the slope.

_(To be continued...)_

"Mada, watashi wa hanarenai kara... saa, dakishimete"

* * *

**_Tut-tut, Ronnie-boy... what were you thinking? Hehe. ;P Bringing home Parallel Hermione like that... good thing Jonathan is such an understanding young man, nee? :)_**

**_Seems like James is getting a little bit too acquainted with the Dark Lord... will Harry and Draco succeed to save him from his terrible fate and prevent him from turning into Tom??_**

**_Please keep reading! ;P  
Love, Piper_**


	49. PU part seven: Making up and going back

**Rating:** NC-17

**Pairing:** H/D

**Disclaimer:** All the characters belong to J.K.Rowling, except for my creations Piper, James, Timothy, Jonathan Kelly, Joz, and the Sakanoues.

**Disclaimer II:** The nickname "Dracums" belongs to Golden.

**A/N:** This is the final chapter in the _Parallel Universe_ suite!! Yaaay! Let's see if I can manage to tie up all the loose ends... :p

* * *

**Parallel Universe, part seven:  
Making up and going back**

He was nowhere to be found, and for every minute that passed, for every room that he found deserted, Draco's panic increased a little bit more. Where the Hell had he gone? The longer he searched – and the less he found – the more worried he became that he might be too late. What if he had Disapparated and planned to never come back? Then what would happen when Harry and Draco returned from the Dark Plane and they were swung right back into their own world? Would they never see each other again, until the day they faced each other in the war? Until one of them killed the other?

He did not want that. Oh, how he did not want that.

"Harry!" he yelled hysterically. "Harry, where the fuck _are_ you?"

"Looking for someone?"

He swirled around. Piper was standing in the archway to the parlour, studying him with an enigmatic glint in her pale eyes. The sun hit her face at an odd angle and made her left eye glow eerily golden.

He hurried up to her. "Yes! Harry – have you seen Harry?"

"What's the hurry? You look as if you've seen a ghost." She gazed up towards the upper floors. "Grandma hasn't come back, has she?"

"No, she's done haunting this place," he assured her. "Harry. Where's Harry?"

She pointed towards the open back door. "He went out there maybe ten minutes ago, and he looked quite pissed. Did you two have a fight again?"

Draco did not bother to answer, but ran straight out into the sunny weather in search of Harry. If he was right, there was only one place he could be. The lake. Probably passing the time throwing rocks in the water.

He was right.

"Harry?" he said uncertainly.

The other man did not answer, but threw an even bigger rock in the lake.

"Harry, may I speak with you, please?"

"Go on – speak. You're so good at it," Harry bit off furiously.

Draco slowly approached him by the shore. "I deserved that," he admitted. "And I most likely deserve much more, too."

"You can bet your arse you do."

_SPLOSH!_

Draco nervously kicked around in the grass for a while. "I, er... I'm really sorry for what I said earlier. I didn't mean it. You said all the things I've been waiting all my life to hear, but I wasn't listening. You see, I've never allowed myself to feel anything for anyone before, I forced myself to be completely cold-hearted and emotionless to cope with the circumstances of my life. But to tell the truth, from the very first moment I met you, you got through to me, Harry. When we were friends at Hogwarts... you made me see that there are other things in life than power and military careers. And now... these days we've spent here... you've totally broken down my defenses."

"So what? That doesn't matter, does it? You didn't care at all, you said. You were just using me."

_SPLASH, SPLOSH!_

"That was just a defense mechanism," Draco said awkwardly. "Last night, I felt something that I've never felt before in my life, and I didn't know what it was. It was wonderful... I couldn't believe how good it felt to be with you, and I just wanted to stay there with you for ever, _that's_ why I told you to stay. I _did_ want you to stay. But when I woke up in the morning, I freaked out. I had never felt anything close to that before – I had never even _liked_ anyone before – and all of a sudden I got the whole package. It scared me. I didn't know how to act. I was just so scared that if I allowed myself to be happy for once I would lose it all, and then I wouldn't even have my indifference left. If I allowed myself to love you I would automatically risk getting hurt, and once you've loved someone there is no turning back. I wouldn't be able to fool myself into believing I was cold-hearted anymore, because then I would have a _broken_ heart. Do you see what I'm saying, Harry?"

The raven-haired man had stopped throwing rocks into the lake, but he still did not turn around to look at him. Draco did not know what he was thinking, because he could not see the expression on his face.

"Maybe," came the answer.

A stone was lifted off Draco's heart. Feeling more confident now, he went on, "The attraction was real, Harry. It wasn't just sex to me. It was so much more. I just freaked, is all. And when you said that you only wanted to enjoy yourself while you were here and was willing to return to your old life with that Ginny chick and keep fighting like nothing had ever happened, I made up my mind. I wouldn't allow myself to get too involved with you because I would definitely get hurt in the end. So when you came to talk to me earlier, I had already shut down all my feelings. I couldn't hear you until long after you'd left. But I heard you, Harry. I heard everything you said. And I... I came down here to tell you I... I feel the same way."

At those words, Harry turned around, and he looked very surprised. "You do?"

Feeling encouraged by his reaction, Draco nodded. "Yes. I love you, too. I still don't understand how it happened or when hatred turned to love, but it did. I know that I want to be with you, and I also know that I'm willing to take the risk of getting hurt because it would be so much worse to live my life without you in it at all."

Harry blinked sheepishly. "You're saying you... really love me? All those things you said was just because you were scared of getting hurt?"

"Yes."

"So you... you didn't just use me 'cos I was available at the time, then?"

"Oh, no. All day yesterday I was yearning for you, and when I finally had you in my bed I felt completely harmonious. It felt natural, believe it or not. That was the most amazing night of my life. I still shudder when I think of it."

A smile searched its way onto Harry's pleasant face. "Me too. Come here."

Draco went into his arms, so glad and so relieved that he believed him and wanted him back that he just crept into the embrace with his eyes shut in happiness.

"What made you change your mind?" Harry wondered curiously.

"Your nine inches," Draco confessed truthfully, and laughed rather obscenely.

"My what?"

Draco pulled away a bit so he could look Harry in the eye. "I saw your penis, remember? When you were in the bathroom."

"You saw my...? Oh. Nine inches." Harry laughed and shook his head resignedly. "You're just something, you know that? You changed your mind just because of the size of my penis?"

"Pretty much, yeah," Draco teased. "No-one in their right mind says no to nine inches. I just can't stop imagining what you'd be able to do with them..."

Harry gently stroked the side of his head. "You know, actually it's ten inches when I'm, should we say, excited," he informed.

Draco's eyes widened. "It is?!"

"Yeah."

"Maybe I'm an eight, then..."

"Wanna compare?" Harry asked kinkily.

"Oh, I don't have any ruler right now..." He fell silent when he realised what Harry meant. It was an invite! Laughing even more obscenely, he said, "You offering to show me what those ten inches can do right here and now, Harry? Well, I'm not going to decline."

The grass felt soft under him as he gently lay down on his back, and it tickled his arms and face. The smell of late summer was all around him, in the lawn and the water and the flowers, and the sun caressed his chest with hot, loving fingers as Harry slowly opened his robes. Draco's muscles tensed, his breath became heavier, and his nipples hardened when Harry sensuously moved his tongue over the exposed skin of his upper body. A light tremble of anticipation passed through him as his lover's tongue played with his bellybutton. In lines and circles, hot patterns were being drawn up from his waist to his neck, and when Harry had reached as far, he lifted his head and gently pressed his lips to Draco's.

Without breaking lip contact, Harry managed to unbutton and pull the blonde's trousers halfway down his thighs. When he had to move further down to be able to pull them off completely, he was careful to place hot kisses all over Draco's upper body, resting extra long at his nape, biting down several times and making Draco expel short cries of sensual pleasure. "Oooh, now I'm ready, now I'm ready," he murmured somewhat absent-mindedly, lost in his own world.

Harry pulled off the trousers entirely and started to work on the blonde's boxers. But before he could pull them off, as well, Draco grabbed his arm and urged him to look at him. With a vulnerability that totally humiliated him, he pleaded, "Promise me you'll never hurt me deliberately. Harry, you need to promise me you'll never leave me. If you do I won't have anything left."

Harry smiled down at him. "I promise you I'll never leave you. They'll have to kill me first, and even then they'll have to prise me away from you. You have my word, and I always keep my word."

Draco nodded. That satisfied his anxiety.

Harry tenderly pulled off the blonde's underwear, but when it came to his own trousers and boxers he magicked them away rather than stopping for a minute to take them off manually. He did not seem to want to risk Draco losing his spark. Furthermore, he gently placed himself on top of Draco, and with his lips to the blonde's ear, he asked, "Are you all right?"

Draco swiftly nodded. "Yes, yes I'm all right. Oh, I need you Harry, I really need you. I want you."

Harry pushed inside without further notice and instantly began to move with experience. His dark cloak fell down over Draco's pale body, covering it. Draco knew the instant they were joined that he had made the right choice; his place was with Harry. As Harry thrust deep into Draco, making use of his full ten inches, he breathed hard into Draco's ear, their cheeks together. He lifted his head and looked down at the blonde. Sweat was trickling down his forehead. When their eyes met, a surge of happiness passed through Draco. And then Harry smiled at him.

The raven-haired man bent down his head and kissed him very gently. As if that short, sweet kiss had been a prelude to roughness, he instantly began to thrust harder, picking up speed. Draco cried out, almost as if in surprise, at an especially hard thrust that brushed against his prostrate, and clasped Harry's shoulder in a tight grip. "You're beautiful," the raven-haired man breathed so close to his mouth he felt an urge to lick him, but he did not have time to do so because Harry kissed him again. His lips lingered on Draco's mouth, and while thrusting and rocking the blonde's body against the semi-soft grassy ground at a furious pace, he sucked at his lower lip. Although it felt kind of weird to have someone suck on your lip, Draco found it incredibly sexy.

He arched his back. "Oh, God... yes!" He eagerly rose to meet Harry. "Harder... give me harder..."

Harry obeyed. But that was not all he did. He moved his hand down and seized Draco's erection, stroking him firmly.

That was too much for Draco. Throwing his head back, he lost all control. "God, aah, haaa... don't stop… don't stop… harder, please, harder, more, please…" He smashed the lower part of his body up unconsciously, encouraging Harry to go deeper still inside of him.

Harry slightly lost his rhythm as he closed in on orgasm; his hand moved irregularly over Draco's erection. Then they both exploded.

"Draco!"

"Harry, yes!"

"God, Draco, I…"

"I love you!"

"I love you, too... I love you, baby... baby..."

Shuddering, they fell back against the grass, their arms intertwined and their foreheads pressed against one another. Still breathing rather hard, they both began to laugh.

"Imagine their faces," Draco said, referring to the people back in their world.

"Yeah, I was just thinking the same thing," Harry confessed. "D'you think it'll take them long to adjust?"

"No, not to the fact that we're a couple I don't, but probably to the fact that you're changing sides – again."

"Hmm, yeah... that'll probably puzzle them a bit..."

"But I guess your parents'll be pleased, right?"

"More than pleased."

Draco pressed closer to him, shutting his eyes with a happy smile on his face. "You don't have a problem changing sides, Harry?"

He kissed the blonde's forehead. "It's not important," he said. "What's important is to be with you, and I know you'll never change sides, which means that I have to."

Draco opened his eyes again and looked at him. "You sound sad."

Harry laughed bitterly. "Can't forget the fact that I'd be leaving Sirius after all he's done for me..."

The blonde stroked his hair lovingly. "You can still visit him, babe."

"Can I, though? If I convert to a Death Eater, can I really visit him? Does it work that way?"

"I don't know. You... you can take some time and think about it. I mean, you don't have to... We can make it work – right?"

But even as he said it, he knew they would not.

* * *

"Welcome back!" Piper exclaimed cheerfully as they emerged from the portal, still looking like their Parallel Selves – with the exception of Harry's scar, of course. Tim was there to greet them, as well, and Piper had obviously invited Ron and Jonathan to the coming-home-party. Harry was immensely glad to see them all – especially Joz – but Draco frowned at his sister. Being away from her for five days had made him very reluctant to return to a world where she would always plague him with her stupidity and obliviousness. But all the same, he was very happy to be home at last, of course. He forced a smile when Piper hugged him. "Hello, sister," he said between clenched teeth, really trying not to lash out at her and violently push her away.

Harry went over to Tim. "Will the order be restored as soon as the switch is complete?" he asked.

"Yes, as soon as your Parallel Selves return to the Dark Plane everything will be as usual," he confirmed.

Harry surveyed the room. "By the way, where are they?"

"They're outside fighting about something – as usual," Piper said wearily, and sighed. "I really thought they'd at least become friends by now, but they just keep slashing at each other. At least they've stopped cursing each other." She moaned irritably and sounded as if she'd had to handle a hundred unmanagable children instead of two grown men. "They've been longing for the day you'd reaturn so they could go back and finish each other off in that stupid war of theirs."

"Really?" Draco said, puzzled. "I thought they'd find each other here." He turned to Harry. "Wasn't that what Bond implied? That they would find each other here, fall in love, and eventually have him?"

"Yeah, I thought so," Harry agreed, "but I guess we interpreted it wrong."

"I'm sure it will all become clear once they come inside," Tim said enigmatically, and Harry got the feeling that he already knew the outcome of their meeting.

While they waited, Harry and Draco sat down on their favourite couch, Draco with his head resting on Harry's chest. James ran around the floor in circles, pretending to be a Hippogriff to amuse Joz. She laughed and clapped her hands appreciatively. Harry watched them while simultaneously stroking Draco's too short and bristly hair, feeling pleasantly warm and joyous as the blonde snuggled closer. Eventually he fell asleep. It had been a long day.

"I think they're coming back now," Tim suddenly said.

Piper shot up from her armchair and ran over to the French windows. "Are they fighting?" she wondered, and she sounded awfully motherly. Having four children had certainly made her overprotective. Then she sighed with relief. "No, they're behaving. Finally."

Harry felt his stomach churn in a very strange way as he saw himself walk through the back door together with another Draco that looked so much like his own. Parallel Harry obviously felt the same way, because he excused himself and went out of the room. Parallel Draco, on the other hand, did not seem at all bothered by the resemblence between himself and the blonde in Harry's arms. He just raised his wand and made the grass stains on his robes disappear. Then he elegantly took a seat in an armchair next to Piper.

"Couldn't stay awake, could he?" Parallel Draco said scornfully.

Harry did not like his tone. Frowning, he said, "We've had a rough time, mind you."

"Yeah, must be hard making your way in a world as dark as ours if you're used to this." He glanced at Ron and Jonathan, who were sitting on the other couch to his left. "Who's he?"

It took Ron some time to reply. "This is Jonathan, my husband."

The blonde raised his eyebrows in bafflement. "Husband? Is everyone married to a man in this place?" he asked incredulously.

Nobody cared to answer.

To their surprise, Parallel Draco licked his lips in an absent-minded sort of way, and murmured dreamily to himself. "Ten inches... man..."

Harry wondered if that was some sort of code.

"What's ten inches?" Piper inquired, too curious for her own good.

He blinked at her for a few seconds. "My, er... wand," he said hesitantly.

"I thought your wand was twelve inches," Harry pointed out.

"I don't have the same wand as your boyfriend over there," he pointed out, yawning.

"No, because Dracums's wand is thirteen-and-a-half inches, and the wand he was given in your world was twelve inches."

"I had to get a new one, broke the old."

"Funny, because I thought you just used it when you made those stains go away."

"Boys," Piper warned. "This was supposed to be a friendly meeting."

Harry shrugged. "All right. Guess I should tell you what we've been up to. We only pretended to be you guys for a few days, then we made a little show. Draco and I pretended to fall for each other in order to be able to look for James together. Everyone bought it – except Sirius. He noticed right away that I wasn't 'the real' Harry, so I told him everything. He helped us with the search. Hermione found ot somehow, too..."

Here, Ron's ears turned crimson.

"Doesn't surprise me Sirius found out," Parallel Harry said from the archway, where he had apparently been listening. "He's very bright."

"He is," Harry agreed. "Then Draco had some sort of premonition in his sleep, and he said James was at the Manor – with Voldemort."

Parallel Draco flinched.

Ron almost fell out of the couch.

Harry ignored them. He looked down at Draco, and caressed his head more lovingly. "We went over there, but we didn't exactly have a plan so we hid in the bushes. Unfortunately a whole dozen Death Eaters found us. I pretended to be you—" he nodded at Parallel Harry "—and that I had put Draco under the Imperius Curse. I threatened I'd kill off their precious general if they didn't take me to my parents—"

"You saw my parents?" Parallel Harry cut in.

"Yeah, but only because I didn't have any choice. I told them I wasn't you, though. Said I held you prisoner in my home in another dimension. Then we took James back from Voldemort and came back here. So, what've you guys been up to the past five days?"

He expected Parallel Draco to answer "Trying to kill each other" or something of the sort, and therefore he was very surprised to hear him ask a question instead.

"Act or truth?" he said indifferently.

"Truth," Parallel Harry said from the archway.

"You make up your mind?" Parallel Draco asked furthermore.

"Yeah."

"What's it gonna be, then?"

"I'm switching."

Harry looked from one to the other, his brows furrowed in bewilderment, and did not understand a word of what they were saying. Act or truth? Switch? What were they playing at?

"Come here, then," Parallel Draco cooed, but it sounded more like a demand than a request.

Parallel Harry did not waste any more time standing around doorways, but went straight up to the blonde and squeezed down beside him in the armchair. Harry watched in shock as they kissed – _French_-kissed! He was so unprepared for it that he accidentally slammed his elbow into Draco's forehead.

The blonde jerked awake immediately. "Ow! 'Choo do that for?" he complained, rubbing his forehead and blinking the sleep out of his grey eyes.

Then he noticed their Parallel Selves across from them. "What the fuck are they doing?"

They broke apart. Parallel Draco was smirking self-righteously at them. "Thought we'd break it to you the only way you seem to understand," he mocked. "Now, to answer your question... The first three days we pretty much tried to curse each other 24/7, but it was really tiring – didn't even have time to sleep – so we decided on a temporary truce. Day four – yesterday – something changed, though. To be honest with you, we couldn't keep our hands off each other. We were sneaking around all day trying to find a place we'd be undisturbed by Piper. But she always showed up when we were getting somewhere. We didn't get enough privacy to have sex until late last night. And it was bloody brilliant, don't you think, Harry?"

"Tasty," Parallel Harry agreed.

Piper was gazing at them with evident confusion. "But today... you've been fighting all day... and before, in the garden..."

"Draco was afraid I might hurt him," Parallel Harry confessed. "And I guess I kind of made him think that. I did say I was going back to Ginny once this was over... but I never meant it. Guess I got defensive, too."

"That doesn't matter," Parallel Draco assured him, and squeezed his hand. "We made up, didn't we?"

Piper gave a squeal of shock. "_That's_ what you did down by the lake?! You had make-up sex?!"

They shrugged.

"Now I see why you were both covered in grass stains... Damn! I missed all the fun!" she pouted.

They spoke for another half-hour before their Parallel Selves rose to leave. Harry was amazed at his parallel equivalent's smugness. Even though he had practically been raised by Sirius and was a good wizard, he was very spiteful.

Right before they stepped through the portal, Draco said "Good luck being good" to his Parallel Self, and was rewarded only with a short, scornful chuckle.

"I'm not going over to the good side," he objected, and then, closing his arm around Parallel Harry's waist, he said, "Harry's coming back to us – where he belongs."

And without further ado, they left them to their amazement.

Draco was the first to speak. "He's converting to the Dark side?" he said disbelievingly.

"Looks that way," Harry mumbled.

Ron rose from his seat. "Come on! Don't tell me you're surprised!" he said incredulously. "Think about it! Did you honestly think that _that_ Draco would ever become a good boy _willingly_? Come on! And just look at that son of theirs! Don't tell me you didn't feel those bad vibes he was giving off? He _reeks_ of evil – there is not a good bone in his body! Did you really think _good_ parents would father a child like that? I mean, your son's OK, but this Bond bloke... he's evil. I know Time Manipulator's have to stay neutral, but I don't really think that means they stay neutral in their minds. That boy was raised Dark, so he turned out Dark. Your boy had obviously been raised good, so he's turned out good. They have chosen sides for themselves, but that doesn't mean they can't still do their jobs neutrally."

He had a very good point, and as he said it, Harry knew it was true.

He stared at the portal, hoping they would never have to switch with them again.

* * *

James stayed at the Manor for three whole weeks without even attempting to hiccough away. But the boy was very quiet, and he was showing his feelings towards Harry very clearly. He still had not forgotten their argument in the Dark Plane, and he still did not agree with Harry calling his 'uncle Voldemort' a bad man. Harry knew he had to do something about it, but every time he attempted to talk to his son he felt like he needed another therapy session.

Draco saw his reluctance to deal with the problem and gently pressed on the matter whenever he felt it safe to do so without further worsening Harry's mental health. He knew he had to do it eventually, sooner rather than later, but he just did not have the courage to face the boy for fear of Tom staring back at him through those green eyes.

Piper was not even aware of the problems within their family since she only cared for her own husband and children, but kept bothering them now and then with new spells and new potions. Mostly they paid no attention to her, but one day she actually got them interested. "I've finally succeeded to make the ultimate potion!" she told them with a huge grin, and waved a test tube of golden liquid at them.

"Oh, yeah?" Draco yawned at her, fanning himself with his hand.

She jumped up and down in front of them. "Behold – the Infinity Potion! This potion makes you eternally young – physically, mind you. Your body will still grow old, and you will still find it hard to reach an age of 100 or more, but your outer appearance will show no sign whatsoever of it! Care to give it a try, lads?"

They exchanged knowing looks.

"Are you sure that stuff really works?" Draco asked doubtfully.

"Of course it does! When are you ever going to learn? Potions are my specialty! It's spells I'm having some trouble with now and then. My potions always work as they should. You're living proof of that, Draco."

He knew she was right. But he still did not care for voluntarily drinking anything that she had concocted. "I don't think so, thank you," he said determinedly.

Harry silently shook his head when she offered him the test tube.

"Oh, come on!" she pleaded. "Won't you give it a try? I promise you it'll make you look twenty for the rest of your lives! Remember, you'll be looking like old farts in a few years if you don't take it. Do you really think you'll get turned on by wrinkly old-farts bodies?"

She had a point there.

"What about stamina?" Draco inquired, and Harry could hear that he seriously considered the Infinity Potion.

"Not only will you look like twenty, but you will also _feel_ like twenty!" Piper promised with her best commercial voice, and waved the test tube in front of their faces again. "I've taken it, and you don't see any side effects on me, do you?"

They did not.

"But what about our friends, then?" Harry pointed out. "They will still grow old, won't they? So are they just going to watch us stay young and perky while they lose their sparks entirely? I'm not sure I want to expose them to that."

Draco had to agree, though reluctantly. Harry could see that he really, really wanted that potion. Harry did, too, but he still had to think about Ron and the others.

"No problem!" Piper assured them. "They will get some, too! I've made ten gallons of this stuff, and you only need three drops to stay young for the rest of your life. I'm planning to offer this to every witch and wizard in the world, and once I run out I will only need three days to make ten gallons more. And I'm going to offer it to them for free, of course," she added when she saw Harry's frown.

With all those promises, they nodded and took the potion.

Harry finally worked up the courage to face James that evening, and went to the boy's room when it was time for bed. He sat on the edge of the bed and asked the boy to look at him. Heavy at heart, he said, "I need to talk to you about Voldemort, about who he was and what he did. Not just to me, but to witches and wizards all over the world."

It took him almost two hours to tell the boy everything he knew, and the part about the murder on his parents was particularly difficult to get through, not to mention the part about Sirius's death at the Department of Mysteries deep down in the Ministry of Magic. The boy listened raptly, and Harry thought he saw the reaction and the realisation that he had been hoping for. Maybe now he had managed to prevent his son from turning into Tom within the near future, but there was still almost sixteen years left before they could be really sure he'd _never_ show.

* * *

Almost two years passed before Draco said what Harry had waited to hear and hoped to hear ever since that miscarriage: "I want to have your baby, Harry."

"Are you sure?" Harry asked, stroking his once again long, blond hair.

"Yes, I'm sure. I'm ready now. I'm not afraid anymore."

"I'm glad to hear that."

"And it was about time, too," a low voice said behind them. When they swirled around, Tim was standing there. He waved at them, a friendly smile on his face. "Hi. Just came by to see how you were doing."

"What d'you mean 'it was about time'?" Draco wondered indignantly.

"For me to be conceived," he said truthfully. "The old Time Manipulators are reaching the end of their lives, so it is time for two new Time Manipulators to be born. In nine months, to be exact."

"So you mean we have to do it today?" Draco asked, his eyes huge with amazement.

The boy grinned mischievously. "Don't you guys 'do it' every day?" he pointed out mockingly. "This will be no different. You'll just take that potion Piper's trying to slip into your tea."

Draco swirled around towards his sister. She had frozen with her hand halfway to the jug at the blond boy's words. Now she smiled awkwardly at Draco, who shook his head resignedly. But then he snatched the potion out of her hand and knocked it back in one swallow. "You didn't need to dilute it!" he said, and made the others laugh. They had all thought he'd reprimand her for trying to lure the potion into him again.

But then something hit him. "Hey! What about Bond?" he said.

"What about him?" Tim wondered, studying his manicured hands.

"Wouldn't he have to be conceived today, too?"

"Yeah, he will be. Why?"

"But how? Parallel Piper will hardly create the Priberty Potion for her little brother – she would _kill him_ if he asked her for it. So how...?"

Piper began to chuckle obscenely in her seat. "I slipped a bottle of the potion into Harry's cloak pocket," she confessed. "And I enclosed a note saying, 'Make sure Draco takes this the day you feel ready for Bond.' That should do it, don't you think?"

"Is that why you hugged him so tightly before they left?" Draco wondered.

Piper's eyes temporarily glazed over and she got an eerie, dreamy look in her eyes. "Yeah... that and, ehum, ten inches, cough, cough..."

Draco frowned. "What?"

"Nothing."

The potion began to kick in, and Draco felt that familiar yearning rise from deep inside his crotch, spreading through his body until it began to itch pleasantly. He gave Harry a sensual look. "Why do I always get so turned on when I recall you're not wearing any underwear?" he asked him to let him know that he was horny and up for some rough treatment.

Harry answered his invite with a kinky smile. "Maybe because you love my dick?" he suggested.

Draco teased him by moving in close enough for their lips to lightly touch, but nothing more. "Yeah, that's probably it," he agreed. "Want me to love it now?"

Tim awkwardly cleared his throat. When they turned to look at him he pointed at himself and said, "Guest."

Piper, on the other hand, was drooling openly.

That made the decision easy for them to make.

Waving at the boy, Harry said, "See you in nine months."

_Parallel Univers - End._

"Mada, watashi wa hanarenai kara... saa, dakishimete"  
_I still can't let go... so, hold me tight._

* * *

**_Hehe, there you go guys. ;P The last chapter of the "Parallel Universe" suite. What did you think of it?? Man, some of the scenarious in this story gives me such vivid inner pictures... I can just see them with my inner eye, as if it was an anime... :D I would so love to draw this one day, when I have learnt to master the art of manga a bit better. Nowadays I am so frustratingly slow... takes me forever to draw even a single picture...! :(_**

**_But anyway... this is not the end of the story. We have a ways left to walk before we can safely leave our friends. So please stick around for the rest of it, nee? :)_**

**_Love, Piper_**


	50. Rape 1: Welcome to the world, Timothy

**Rating:** R

**Pairing:** H/D

**Disclaimer:** All the characters belong to J.K.Rowling, except for my creations: Piper, James, Joz, Timothy, Jonathan Kelly, Sarah Kelly, Jonas, and the Sakanoues. the name Pywercaseley was created by me, but Percy Weasley, the man behind the name, is all Rowling's.

**Disclaimer II:** The nickname "Dracums" belongs to Golden, I just borrowed it...

**A/N:** Whoa..! Chapter 50 already! Amazing... OK, we have left their Parallel Selves and are now focusing on their son instead... about time, huh? :p

* * *

**Rape, part one  
Welcome to the world, Timothy Bond**

Harry was immensely glad that his Parallel Self had not had time to start his employment at Hogwarts, what with him converting to the Dark side and everything. And there would have been a great risk of someone finding out that he was not the real Harry, too. He was also very glad that he had decided to postpone his start of employment at the school for two years, because he had really needed the time with his family. Instead he had been doing minor businesses for the Order whilst Lupin held his position for him. So, thanks to a whole lot of luck, Harry had been able to go to Hogwarts with a clean conscience and take his rightful place as Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, still looking twenty thanks to the Infinity Potion. That first night, he had felt really weird walking into the Great Hall through the side door together with the other teachers, and take a seat at the staff table. Snape had not seemed all too pleased to see him, but Hagrid had been beside himself with pride and joy.

"I can' believe yeh made it and became teacher, Harry!" he had snivelled, and given Harry a friendly, but very hard, slap on the shoulder. "Dumbledore did the righ' thing hirin' yeh, I say. If there's anyone be'er than you at Defense Against the Dark Arts I swear I'll eat my hat!"

"Er, Hagrid, you aren't wearing any hat," Harry had pointed out cautiously.

The great man had blotted his eyes with a handkerchief as big as a tablecloth. "I have one in me house," he had informed him. "Harry, I'm really proud o' yeh. Always knew yeh'd make it, always knew yeh'd become something."

Harry had been truly flattered to hear Hagrid speak so emotionally of him. "I'm glad to be back, too," he had said.

That was almost four months ago. Now Harry stood in his combined office and bedroom on the second floor, packing his trunk to go home for the Christmas holidays. Dumbledore had made him promise to stay at Hogwarts for his entire first term as teacher, and he had reluctantly sent Hedwig to Draco, telling him that he would not be coming home for a while. The blonde had been furious, of course... Harry could still hear the Howler's fierce words echo through his mind, and winced at the memory.

_**"HOW DARE YOU LEAVE ME HERE FOR FOUR BLOODY MONTHS, YOU FUCKING BASTARD?! YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO BE BY MY SIDE NOW – THIS IS YOUR BLOODY BABY, TOO! YOU ARE COMPLETELY NEGLECTING YOUR CHILDREN, AND I WILL SEE TO IT THAT YOU REGRET IT FOR YEARS TO COME, MARK MY WORDS!"**_

That was the nice part of it. Perhaps he would have coped better with it had he not been having dinner in the Great Hall at the arrival of the Howler. There had been no chance of him getting out of there then and safely lock himself in an empty room before the red message exploded and began to shriek at him. It had been his second night at Hogwarts, and he had not yet met most of his students, which meant that most of the people present did not know that he had a husband and children. So when a male voice magnified to a hundred times its original volume began to accuse him of neglecting him and not fulfil his duties as father (and lover!), many students gasped in shock, but even more laughed at him. It had been torture to go to his classes the following morning.

He had felt really awkward standing before the fifth-year Ravenclaws, knowing that the questions would surely come, and they did long before he could even introduce himself.

"Who was that man screaming at you?"

"Is it true that you're gay?"

"Trouble with the 'missus', Professor? Is that why you're staying at Hogwarts rather than going home?"

"Are you really Harry Potter? _That_ Harry Potter?"

He'd had to send up red sparks from the end of his wand to quieten them. "Good morning, class," he'd said when they finally fell silent and listened. "I can certainly see why you have all these questions, ehum... but first things first, all right? My name is Harry Ma—"

"You _are_ Harry Potter?!" a girl had screamed from the back row, and they had all begun to murmur between themselves again. He'd held up his hand, saying, "Please, some silence! To answer your question – yes, I am Harry Potter, _the_ Harry Potter. But I'm married now, and my name is Harry Malfoy. The man you heard yesterday at dinner was my husband – so, yes, I am gay, mind you. I'm married to Draco Malfoy, and we have two children together, a third on the way. That's why he was a bit... off."

He had had to explain his entire personal life that day to satisfy his new students' curiosity. And he had had to repeat the procedure every time he met a new class. He had been exhausted after the first week, and earned himself a second Howler when he'd forgotten to write back to Draco for several days.

Now he was anxious to go home, and he would not let anything stop him. Once his trunk was loaded with all his belongings, he left his office and locked the door behind himself. He met Professors Binns and Flitwick on his way out to the carriage that would take him to Hogsmeade Station, but he did not stop to chat. He did not feel calm until he had attached his trunk to his Firebolt and was in the air. It was safest for him to depart from the station rather than from the school grounds, because he had all too fresh in memory the incident with the flying car and the reproach Snape had given him and Ron for being seen by Muggles. He did not want to risk another ranting like that one, even though he was an adult and a teacher now. Snape still hated him – more passionately now than before.

Naturally, he had put several Muggle repelling spells and invisibility charms on himself and his luggage to avoid being spotted from the ground this time. Besides, his Firebolt was much faster than the train.

When he arrived at the Manor, everything was quiet. He sneaked into the house through the back door and carefully put down the trunk on the floor by the French windows. Then he began his search for the blonde. He could not believe that he had not seen him for almost four whole months, he must be huge compared to what he'd been last Harry saw him!

An enormous Christmas tree had been brought in and put in the middle of the room, adorned with the most elegant and extravagant Christmas decorations one could imagine. All colours were represented in it, and you could clearly see which part had been decorated by Draco and which part had been decorated by the children. There was even a clear touch of Piper here and there. The furniture in the room had been set around the tree to further point out that it was the most important part of the room at the time being.

But there was no sign of Draco.

Harry listened intently for some sort of sound that would betray his husband's whereabouts in the big house. After only a minute he heard a low clinking in the kitchen followed by a muffled curse.

He stealed out of the parlour and into the warm kitchen, where Draco apparently was busy cooking the Christmas dinner in advance, and he did not notice Harry arrive. With a mischievous smile playing on his lips, he decided to surprise him. Carefully, carefully he snuck up on him and put his arms around his waist from behind. The blonde started slightly, but then he leant back into the embrace. "Welcome home, baby," he murmured happily.

Harry kissed him on the neck, just below his left ear. "Hello, gorgeous," he said, and without further ado moved his hands down over the blonde's semifat belly towards his crotch. Slowly, sensuously, he began to massage the blonde's groin, sensing an immediate change in him. He was wearing dark blue-grey trousers of some light fabric because of his pregnancy, so it was not hard for Harry to elicit a quick reaction from him. Up and down, up and down, lightly and teasingly brushing against his growing erection...

Draco leant his head back and let it rest on Harry's shoulder, their cheeks close together, and breathed heavily in Harry's ear. He squirmed in the raven-haired man's arms, his well-excercised muscles tensing in anticipation.

"Where're the others?" Harry asked in a low, hoarse voice.

A shudder passed through Draco's body as Harry worked his groin harder. "Haah... outside... snow," he managed to utter.

"Outside? I didn't see them when I flew in."

"Not here... Ron's..."

"Oh." Harry lifted one of his hands and put it inside the blonde's trousers.

Draco gasped loudly and made a few small guttural, encouraging noises. When Harry took his erection in his hand, he cried out shortly. Clasping Harry with his left hand, he urged, "Harry... upstairs, please... take me upstairs... I've longed for you so much, I've been all alone here... I want you. I want you so bad. No sex in almost four months... it's been killing me."

"I can imagine," Harry said in a teasing tone of voice, stroking the blonde twice.

Draco whimpered like a pup.

A door was slammed open.

"We're hooome!" Piper yelled from the parlour.

"Fuck," Draco moaned, disappointed. Aware that he needed to calm down fast before their children walked into the kitchen, he hastily pulled away from Harry, very reluctantly forcing him to withdraw his hand. His silver eyes said, "Later."

Harry hated having to postpone their rejoinment, yet nodded quietly. Oddly enough, he needed readjustment to the family life, and that saddened him. Had he really been away so long that he did not remember how to act around his children? It was as if he had missed three or four years of their lives, not three or four months. James, seven years old – Joz, five years old. Unknown, minus five months.

Harry chuckled when he thought of their unborn baby as 'Unknown'.

Draco looked up at him over the kitchen counter with a quizzical glint in his pale eyes. "What?" he wondered without much curiosity.

"Nothing." Harry could not take his eyes off his lover's belly. Another life lied within the swelling. It was amazing. Each time just as amazing. A kind of nostalgic, bitter smile came to his lips when he came to yet another conclusion.

Draco was now regarding him with a worried wrinkle between his eyebrows. "You look sad, Harry," he observed. "Is there something on your mind? Should we go into the other room?"

But Harry just shook his head and laughed shortly. "No. I just realised that maybe I should stop thinking of you as my lover now. You're my husband, and to merely think of you as my lover seems a bit disrespectful, don't you think?"

Pale silver glimmered strangely, intriguingly. "It's not disrespectful," the blonde protested softly, tenderly, moving closer to him. "The word 'lover' has different meanings, Harry. It can simply be two people who love each other, and are we not just that? But if you only think of the meaning 'someone with whom you have sexual relations but aren't married to' then I might just slap you." He grinned widely, giving soul to the joke.

Harry laughed and shook his head anew, but for a completely different reason. "You're just something, Draco. I love you more every day, you know that? No, I don't think of 'lover' in that way. Although, I have to admit it's a big upside to this relationship... never had better sex in my life."

Draco snorted. "Oh, please! As if you ever slept with anyone else!"

Piper watched them with an amused smile. "Boy, have I missed this," she said, rinsing the vegetables for that night's dinner. "Nothing's the same around here when you're away, Harry."

"So I've heard," he replied, and winked knowingly at the blonde as he stuffed a piece of red pepper in his mouth.

Draco blushed. He, too, remembered those Howlers very well.

He had written a long apology to Harry about three days after the second one arrived, and since then he had been taking his meals in peace.

Fortunately, he adjusted quickly to the much slower life at the Manor – and to his marital duties. Once they were in bed together, it did not seem as if they had been apart for four months; it was as if they had never parted. Harry got no sleep at all that night, because he spent every minute of the dark hours pleasing all the needs that had grown within the blonde for all that time, and of course had his own needs satisfied. When he stepped down into the parlour on Christmas morning he felt like a completely new man. Even though he had bathed for over an hour – something he could not do at Hogwarts without risking someone else walking in on him – Draco's scent was still on him, and he savoured it as he entered the chaotic room. All the children were on the floor in front of the Christmas tree, fighting over the presents.

Piper was watching them with cold amusement, something that seemed to have become her trademark. Now mother of five and pregnant with her and Yousuke's sixth child, she just became more and more self-centred and quietly gleeful for each year that passed. It was as if her Malfoy genes were constantly striving to win her over, and after so many years' persistent struggle she was finally starting to give in.

And that was not all that was changing. Joz's behaviour had begun to deteriorate some time ago until she started using her immense powers on her brother and her cousins whenever she did not have her way. They grew up fearing her. Draco had denied it for a long time, but ultimately he had been forced to accept the fact that she was way too dangerous to have around the house. They had brought her back to St Mungo's about a year previously, and the Healers had put her on heavier medication potion. But they had been allowed to bring her home for Christmas. Perhaps some time with her family would do her some good and restore some hope to her.

Harry felt as if he was gliding through the day, a pleasant warmth in his heart always. He watched Draco in his everyday chores, because he was not allowed to help. He felt almost like a guest in his own house, a strange and unsettling feeling. Yet he cherished every moment of it. Just getting to watch Draco like that... how he moved with such ease and elegance... Maybe that was why the blonde would not let him help; maybe he wanted Harry to watch, to appreciate, to yearn, and ultimately to desire. Yes, that was probably Draco's scheme. The blonde knew all too well what a day of observation did to Harry. He could already feel that growing tinkling in his nerves. He could not believe how happy he was to have such a sexy husband...

At six, their guests arrived. Ron and Jonathan came first, hand in hand as always. Shortly thereafter, Lupin. By six thirty, all but one were gathered around the dinner table; Ginny had sent an owl saying she would arrive a little later than expected. Something had come up.

When she did arrive, Harry stopped in his eating, staring in open shock and disbelief. She was... pregnant. But he had heard nothing about a partner! How long..?

As she took a seat between Draco and James, Harry heard himself ask, "Whoever knocked _you_ up?"

Mouth full of mashed potatoes, Jonathan cheerfully raised his arm into the air. "I did!" he announced merrily.

Harry stared at him drop-jawed. Then he stared at Ginny. Then at Ron. And back to Jonathan. "What? How could you let that happen?!" His accusing question was directed at Ron.

Ron just shrugged. "I was there when it happened," he said, as if that would calm Harry.

"You were _there_? Are you out of your mind? Are you all insane? You— you— you were watching your own sister...?" He could not even finish that question.

Suddenly they were all laughing at him, and he could not for the world understand why.

"What is so bloody funny?!" he demanded indignantly.

"You are!" Jonathan whimpered, holding his hands to his stomach.

"You should see your face!" Ron interjected.

Draco put his hand over Harry's over the table. "Baby, I'm sorry, I forgot to tell you. Ron and Jonathan decided they wanted to have children, and Ginny volunteered as their surrogate mother. She was inseminated with Jonathan's sperm at St Mungo's the day you went to Hogwarts. I'm sorry, babe, I should've told you much sooner. It just never crossed my mind since you weren't here."

That had probably been the greatest shock of Harry's life. So far.

But he was quite shocked on Boxing Day, too. Draco had decided – without consulting him about it first – to visit the Dursleys. "They're your family, Harry," he had argued, "and you should appreciate them. I killed all of my family, but your aunt and uncle and cousin are still alive. Our children have a right to get to know their family."

"You're not seriously considering taking Joz, are you?" Harry asked when Draco had finally managed to persuase him into coming.

"Why not?"

"She set fire to the dining room table this morning! Isn't that a sign she should be brought back to St Mungo's?"

"She didn't do it on purpose..."

"No? Then how come she was laughing and trying to throw Natsumi into the fire, huh?"

Draco snorted. "Natsumi should be able to defend herself..."

"She's 13 months old!" Harry exclaimed exasperatedly.

"So? Isn't she the spawn of Devil Piper? I wouldn't be surprised if she taught her children advanced magic from the cradle..."

They spent three (to Harry) awkward hours at the Dursleys' in Little Winging (Joz did not come) during which Draco ogled at the television most of the time. He would probably have stayed much longer if Harry had not forced him to go back home with him. It was quite amazing that they had managed not to use any magic at all during the visit, though. James had been perfectly polite and given Petunia all of his attention as he listened interestedly to the gossip of the neighbourhood. He had even feigned fascination when she decided to instruct him in the fine art of gardening. She seemed to have taken quite a liking to the boy, and waved merrily as they departed.

"I want a TV," Draco announced when they got back to the Manor. "How do you buy one?"

Harry laughed scornfully at him. "We are not getting a TV," he protested firmly.

But the blonde did not seem to have heard. "I wonder if thirty Galleons would be enough to get a decent one?" He turned to Harry. "Or are they expensive?"

"Well, that depends on the size of the machine, and the... Wait a minute! We are _not_ getting a TV, so you might as well stop counting your assets, Dracums."

"Why not?" the blonde pouted. "It's not like I would watch it all day..."

"Yeah, you would! I had to prise you from the sofa at the Dursleys, and that was proof enough for me. There will be no TV in my house. We don't even have electricity."

"What's eckeltricity?" Draco blinked in confusion.

"E-L-E-C-T-R-I-C-I-T-Y," Harry corrected him annoyedly. "It's the Muggles' substitute for magic. It's a sort of current that runs through wires all through their houses so that they can use their machines. If they didn't have electricity, their lamps wouldn't work, they would only have fireplaces and candles."

"Really?" The blonde kept nagging about getting a TV for the entire Christmas holiday until Harry was so annoyed with him he gave in. But he did not take Draco to the store with him, because he would probably have asked too many suspicious questions about 'eckeltricity' and 'wipers' (wires) and 'namestreams' (mainstream).

Fortunately, Draco kept his promise and did not watch as much TV as Harry had first dreaded he would. Unfortunately, Harry was not able to keep his own promise...

"_You have to stay??_" Draco howled furiously when Harry had read the letter from Dumbledore aloud the day before he would return to Hogwarts for the Spring term. Harry squirmed before him, apparently uncomfortable and ashamed. _Well, he should be!_ Draco thought. "You're not coming back home for six bloody months?!"

Harry tried to defend himself best he could. "Please, Dracums, don't kill the messenger here!" he begged, holding out his hands in front of his face as the blonde threateningly raised his fists. "I had no say in this – it was Dumbledore's decision! I'll talk to him as soon as I get back, I'll write to him right away, and I will make him take that order back, I promise!"

Draco shoved him away, and tears were glimmering in his livid eyes. "You bastard! I thought you had learnt your responsibilities by now, but no! You're still going back to that bloody school to teach those bloody brats and leave me alone with _your own _bloody kids! What about me, huh? What about _my_ feelings? Did you ever stop to think about _me_ when you decided to take the job? Huh? Fuck you, Harry! Fuck you!" He turned on his heel and ran off, loud sobs escaping his throat.

Harry followed in panic. It was exremely difficult to deal with Draco when he was in that mood; his pregnancy made him oversensitive and over-vulnerable. At most times, Harry had no idea how to deal with him at all. The blonde was either furious with him or cried his eyes out, accusing him of this and that. Or both – like now. Those were three of Draco's four basic Pregnancy Moods; the fourth was his unusual sexual hunger. "Dracums! Stop! Wait! We need to talk about this, so don't just run away like that! Running away will solve nothing!" he shouted after the blonde, all in vain because he did not stop. "Dracums!"

He caught up with him outside the study on the second floor and clasped his arms around him, forcing him to stop lest he should take them both down. The blonde's ragged sobbing and snivelling broke his heart in half. Draco's pain was his pain. "Dracums, please just listen to me. I don't want to stay at Hogwarts throughout the school year, and I won't. I know that the teachers are supposed to stay and maintain the order, but there are loads of teachers there already. They don't need me. I'll come home to you, baby, I'll come home to you," he whispered soothingly in the blonde's ear.

"Liar," Draco accused weakly. "You won't be coming home if he says you'll have to stay. I know you won't, 'cos all you want is to please old Dumbledore. He hired you especially to function as some sort of spy for the Order – he hired you to protect Hogwarts from the Death Eaters, so don't you think it's safe to say that you'll have to stay all year round?"

Harry could not find any reply to that. He knew Draco was right. Yes, he had promised Dumbledore to protect the school because it was one of the most important wizard facilities in the country.

"You're fucking leaving me alone again... will you even be here when your son is born? Will you?"

Harry felt a sting of guilt. He would miss everything. He had already missed out on four months of his baby's life – how much more would he allow Dumbledore and the Order to take from him? From his family? Did they not have the right to claim him first?

"Bastard..."

The blonde had stopped struggling in his grip, but only because he was too weak to continue.

"Draco... I'm sorry. I had no idea he would do this. Maybe if I asked him to expand my personal quarters—"

Draco violently broke free of him, suddenly strong with wrath again. "You insensitive piece of elephant shit! Do you really think that'll make everything right again? We can't come and live with you at Hogwarts, you idiot! Are you crazy or just stupid?"

"I'm in love," Harry heard himself reply, and then swiftly changed to 'stupid'.

The blonde snorted and stormed off, but this time he did not attempt to follow him. He just watched his back disappear around the corner in the hallway and wondered what he could do to make this right. He seemed only to be capable of making mistakes, never to correct them. Tomorrow he would have to return to Hogwarts, and he knew that he would leave a furious and betrayed Draco behind. If another Howler arrived just in time to welcome him back to his office, he would not be surprised.

Draco would not let him sleep in their bed that night. Harry shuffled over to the guestroom with drooping ears. He felt awful the following morning, and Draco did not even come out to say goodbye. To his puzzlement, he did not receive any Howlers, though. He did speak to Dumbledore the first thing he did once he got back, but as Draco had predicted he would not let him go home for the nights. "In a month or two I can grant you the weekends with your family, Harry, but no more than that. That is a sacrifice you will have to make for the Order."

In that moment, Harry hated the old bastard. But he never spoke aloud about those feelings. He wrote to Draco and James every day, most often several times a day, as soon as he had a moment to himself. He never received any answer. When those two months had finally passed, Harry went to see Dumbledore again to press on the matter. But the Headmaster still would not allow him his weekends at home. Harry became so furious that he shouted out everything he had ever held against Dumbledore without the slightest bit of remorse or shame. "If you don't give me some time together with my family now and then I will bloody quit this shitty job, because it's not worth it! They have the right to see me now and then! My own children won't know me if this continues! One of these days I'll come home only to be greeted by wariness and estrangement. Is that what you want to create? You want to make me a stranger to my own children? And what about my husband? He's six months pregnant, and I haven't been there for him at all. I'm getting bloody tired of this! I am going home, Dumbledore, I am. I don't need your permission to sleep in my own bed," he finished, and left the tower office with determined strides.

Dumbledore said nothing or did nothing to stop him when he went home late that Friday afternoon when classes ended to spend the weekend with Draco, James, and their still unnamed new baby. The blonde was very surprised to see him. "What are you doing here?" he asked in puzzlement.

Harry hurried up to him and threw his arms around him. Tears came to his eyes and began to stream down his cheeks when he felt the blonde's huge belly press against his. "I am so sorry, Dracums, I am so sorry I've neglected you," he snivelled unhappily, his face buried in his husband's thick, silver hair. "I hate being away from you, and when I didn't receive any answers to my letters I became worried that you'd never forgive me for it."

Draco slowly raised his hands and put them on Harry's back. "I've been too angry to write you," he said truthfully. "I didn't want to embarrass you in front of your students again."

Harry was surprised by his thoughtfulness. "But you should've," he objected. "I don't care if they all hate me, they're just brats. I just don't want _you_ to hate me, Draco. I love you."

"I love you, too, Harry," the blonde said, and pressed closer into the embrace. "Will you stay tonight?"

Harry chuckled bitterly. "Hell, yeah! Nothing can make me leave you now. I will stay with you now, all throughout the pregnancy. I don't care what Dumbledore and the other teachers think, I won't miss another minute. I've already missed two thirds of the pregnancy, six months during which I should've been here to support you. I'm supposed to be your husband, and what could I give you? Two weeks. And that was just because it was the holidays."

Draco patted his cheek. "Ssshh. Don't fret about it. It's all in the past now. But I won't let you shirk from work just because you feel a little guilty. I will come with you instead, like you said. We should be together, yes, but those 'brats' need you, too. James and I will come with you and stay with you in your tiny office/personal quarters/bedroom for the remainder of the pregnancy, _then_ you can decide whether you want to keep your position there or not."

Harry let go of him to look at him halfway through his offer. Now he searched for something true in his eyes. "Are you serious? You'll leave the Manor and come with me? For real?"

The blonde smiled at him and gave him a small, playful slap on the side of his face. "Of course I will. If you come all the way here against Dumbledore's will risking your job just to tell me that you love me, I'll more than happily go with you. But not until Sunday, OK? This weekend will be ours, and it will be special. I will make it special for you. And on Monday you can proudly show those brats your very pregnant husband." He leant in for the sweetest kiss that Harry had experienced in an entire year.

Boy, did people get shocked when they walked through the corridors that Monday morning! Draco, with his huge stomach, just grinned mockingly at the passing students and said, "What are you looking at? You never seen a pregnant bloke before?" He basked in their attention and their stares. And all the time he held Harry's hand firmly in his, proudly displaying the fact that they were wed. James trotted along at their side, fascinatedly glaring at everything and everyone.

Ironically, Snape was the first teacher they stumbled across around a corner. He stopped dead in his tracks when he saw them. Then he collected himself. "Bringing the whole family today, are we, Potter? I had no idea this was Family Day..."

"First of all, it's Malfoy," Harry corrected him solemnly, "and second of all, you should take another look at Draco. Notice any difference?"

Snape pretended to size the blonde up before tutting himself sarcastically. "My, my... Looks to me like he's quite big with child – again."

"Gee, even you could see that? Congratulations, Professor Snape, dear colleague. Then you might also be able to understand that this is a quite critical time for us as a family. I need to be with them, but I am also sworn to this school and another little community that Dumbledore runs, as you may recall. Draco needs me, and I need to be there for him. Since I cannot be at home with him, he will have to be at Hogwarts with me. Oh, don't worry," he hastily said before Snape could utter the words he had on his tongue, "they won't be attending my classes every day, just today. James wanted to see what I do for a living, and I thought it best to introduce Draco properly before any rumours started. That's why I'm going to announce his staying here at dinner tonight, when all are gathered. Now, if you excuse us, we have a lesson to go to."

They pushed past him before he could present any other protests.

The students accepted Draco's presence at the school rather quickly; most of them thought it was kind of cool to have Professor Malfoy's husband there, especially when he told them stories about all the Death Eaters he had killed. Harry worked every day, as promised to Dumbledore, except for the day that Draco gave birth to the baby boy that would eventually grow up to be the blond boy they had known for so many years. They decided to stay at Hogwarts for the remainder of the summer term and go home together with Harry rather than leaving him there for the last three weeks. They proudly showed their new son to everyone who wished to see him, but they did not yet have a name for him. For now, they simply called him 'our boy' or 'little one' or 'sweetie', but eventually they would have to find him a suitable name.

They had an epiphany one night as they were back at the Manor, all watching an old James Bond movie on the TV that Draco so loved. Harry had bewitched it so that it would not need electricity to function. All of a sudden, James begun to jump up and down in his seat, pointing at the TV screen. "How about naming him after him? He's cool!"

Harry and Draco exchanged knowing looks. "But we already named you James," Harry protested. "We can't have two sons called James, that'd be confusing."

The boy became still. "Oh. You're right."

They kept watching for ten minutes or so.

"But how about Timothy, then?" Draco asked out of the blue, his eyes on Harry.

Harry met his silver eyes in amazement. "Why?" he wondered.

The blonde shrugged. "Because it's Timothy Dalton playing James Bond in this movie, so in a way we would still be naming him after Bond, wouldn't we?"

And then it hit them both at the same time.

"Timothy," Draco said numbly. "Tim."

"Bond," Harry said only a second thereafter.

"Yeah! Let's name him Bond!" James exclaimed, starting to jump up and down again. "That's a cool name! Bond Malfoy. Or maybe Malfoy Bond?" He laughed boyishly, happy with his wittiness.

Close to. "How about Timothy Bond Malfoy?" Harry asked the boy.

James peered down at the baby in Draco's lap. After a moment's grave consideration, he nodded solemnly. "Yeah, he looks like a Timothy Bond all right!" he announced, and his parents laughed at him.

Timothy grew quickly. Suddenly he was already two years old. Unlike other small children, he had an awareness of the world around him that was astonishing. He was frighteningly smart, and he did not try to hide the fact that he was different from his siblings. He told them plain out what he was on his second birthday, long before Harry and Draco had even expected him to know his destiny himself. But he knew. "I'm a Time Manipulator," he said in his brittle boy's voice, "I travel through time." Turned out he could already open the portal, and that scared Harry. Even though he had seen the boy at the age of sixteen so many times he could not count them, he still got worried that something bad might happen to him if he messed too much with time travelling before he was physically mature for it.

"Don't worry, Harry," he said soberly, "I have everything under control. My future self will see to my survival, you be so sure."

Harry frowned. "Your future self? But how can he do that when you haven't grown up yet?"

"One of life's many paradoxes. Even though he travels back in time to his own childhood and changes certaint events long after he was my age, it will still happen in my time."

Harry did not understand a word Timothy had just said, and he thought it was kind of creepy to hear his son talk of himself in the third person, so he did not ask again.

When James learnt of Timothy's special abilities, he asked his younger brother to teach him to open the time portal. Timothy refused and argued that it was a power reserved for Time Manipulators and Time Manipulators only. "Why?" James demanded indignantly. "Don't you think I will be able to manage it? You've seen me travel through time yourself – that's what I do when I hiccup! So why can't you teach me to open the portal? Then I would be able to travel through time and actually _choose_ where to go instead of just winding up at some random place I've never been."

But Timothy was firm on his point. "It is not for regular wizards to know, not even for one who can travel through time by hiccoughing."

James was furious with him, but it did not last long, thank Merlin.

Harry kept his job as Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, but from his second year of teaching and on he was allowed to spend his weekends at home with his family. In the future he hoped to get permission to go home every night, as had originally been suggested to him, but which had only turned out to be a way for Dumbledore to lure him into accepting the position as Professor. He soon discovered that he liked teaching quite a deal, and he liked helping his students. It seemed a noble profession.

Next time Tim visited them from the future, he was not alone. By his side was a pretty, dark-haired boy the same age as he, and Harry recognised him instantly. "You were the one asking for The Other!" he said in bafflement and pointed at the strange boy openly.

He laughed. "Yeah, I was. Nice to meet you again, Mr Malfoy. I found him shortly after I'd spoken to you," he informed him with his thick American accent.

"Good for you," Harry said with honesty, and then he noticed that the two boys were holding hands. "Is our Timothy that 'Other' you've been searching for?"

"That is correct, father," future Timothy told him with a vague smile. "We've finally found each other. We're soulmates."

"The other Time Manipulator," Harry stated as he finally understood how it must be.

Both boys nodded.

"My name is Jonas," The Other introduced himself, shaking Harry's hand firmly, "and I guess I'm your son-in-law-to-be."

Future Timothy explained that introducing Jonas to them much sooner than had originally been intended (the day Jonas came to the Manor looking for Timothy fourteen years into the future) may ensure a future much changed from the one he had seen and grown up in. His deepest wish was to change a certain event that had changed everything and made the world a dark place to live – an event that had ultimately resulted in the Death Eater war – but he would not tell them what that event was. Only that he was set on preventing it from ever occurring.

Seeing young Timothy and his much older, future self together was both amusing and strangely satisfying. Seeing them talk to each other like old friends as if they were not at all the same person was merely weird and unnerving. Harry tried not to think of it.

2016, the year James went to Hogwarts, something incredible happened. Draco had been feeling queasy for some time and immediately recognised the symptoms after so much 'training'. He went straight to Piper. "Could I borrow your Priberty Measurer, please?" he asked her casually.

She blinked up at him in astonishment. "What? You've been stealing from my potion storage, Drakie-poops?"

"No, we haven't been stealing anything, and don't act so innocent. You know what you've done, and so do I. I just wish to confirm it before I tell Harry about it."

She was completely taken aback. "But I haven't given you any potion!" she objected indignantly. "I haven't once tried to butt in! I've stayed out of your business for several years!"

"I don't believe you, you deceiving, wicked wench. Now give me the Priberty Measurer."

She gave it to him. And sure, when he blew into it the green lamp began to glow. Piper stared at it in shock and disbelief. "But I haven't! I promise you, I haven't! But how is that possible?"

He sneered at her. "Perhaps you've made it too good, dear sister. Perhaps the effect has stayed with me and I will be at a constant risk of getting pregnant because of your creating artificial organs within me. I'm with child – again – and Harry and I obviously did it ourselves this time. Odd."

_(To be continued...)_

"Kodoku ni dakareta, boku o koroshite"

* * *

**_A new era has started!! Men can get pregnant all on their own, without the help of magical potions or the interference of their annoying older sisters!! BUWAhahahaha!! XD Ehhh... hrm. Sorry about that... I got a bit carried away, I guess. (Sweat-drops) Hehe. But yes, we are now in a new suite of intriguing (I hope) chapters called "Rape". And this is the mini-series, or whatever one should call it, that I was working on when I lost my inspiration, which means that we are swiftly closing in on the unfinished chapter that I still haven't been able to continue writing. My hopes in publishing this and re-reading everything is that I will finally be able to continue this story and finish it, once and for all. And now I feel rather confident that I will actually be able to do so, too._**

**_Wish me luck. ;P  
Love, Piper_**


	51. Rape 2: She is back

**Rating:** PG-17

**Pairing:** H/D

**Disclaimer:** All the characters belong to J.K.Rowling, except for my creations Piper, James/Tom, Joz, Timothy, Jonathan Kelly, Jonas, Sarah Kelly-Weasley, and the Sakanoues.

**Disclaimer II:** The nickname "Dracums" belongs to Golden, I'm merely borrowing it... :p

**A/N:** Everything that happens in this chapter (and I really mean _everything_ that happens in this chapter) was _not_ supposed to happen, this is absolutely not how I planned it at all. But it was as if the story wrote itself, the words were just chanelled through my fingers. Since I didn't plan this, the "Rape" story will have an additional part (this part) besides the five parts that I originally planned. So everything that was _supposed_ to happen in part two will actually take place in part three instead.

* * *

**Rape, part two  
She is back**

"Harry, I need to speak with you – in private."

Harry furrowed his brow when he saw the stern expression on Draco's face. Timothy and Jonas, whom had been walking right behind him, stopped as well. They had come to visit them again, just a social call this time, to see that everything was all right and moving in the direction they desired. The blonde had obviously not expected them there, so his mouth fell open in surprise at the sight of their guests.

"It's OK, we were just about to leave anyway," Timothy said, bowing his head slightly before opening the portal before himself and his soul mate. They stepped inside before Draco could object.

Once he was alone with Harry, he did not know what to say. How should he break the news to him? He remembered Harry's words all too well: _"We shouldn't have any more children since I'm already so stacked up in work, it wouldn't be fair to them. Nor would it be fair to the ones we already have, because they would no longer get my full attention."_

The raven-haired man regarded him with guarded curiosity. It was amazing how he looked not a day older than twenty. That Infinity Potion sure did work as it should! Piper had administered the potion to every adult witch and wizard willing to take it, and the Ministry was said to be working on some sort of law that would make it compulsory to take the potion at the age of twenty – which, by the way, was the age limit. But Dark witches and wizards were not granted the potion, of course.

The raven-haired man studied him quizzically, patiently waiting for him to go on. But when he did not tell him what was on his mind, he sighed and sat down in a chair. He slapped his hands down in his lap and looked at the blonde with expectancy. "Do you think it will be easier for you to lighten your heart if you sit in my lap?" he wondered lightly.

Draco went over to him and sat down as instructed, with his head resting against Harry's shoulder and neck. He could smell the scents of Harry's natural, unperfumed hair and skin products. "I... something's happened," he began uncertainly, not knowing quite how to continue. He felt Harry stiffen beneath him and knew he had to convey that it was not anything bad that had happened. "It should be a good thing. I mean, I see it as a good thing, but... But you said we shouldn't have any more... With your work and you being sworn to the Order and everything... And Piper didn't even scheme this time," he found himself finishing with, and he even confused himself with that odd monologue.

Harry shifted slightly in his seat. "Er, okaaay... and what exactly does that all mean?"

"That I'm... I'm... pregnant." He waited for the reprimand that was sure to come. Already he saw Harry's furious, reddish face with his mind's eye, and it was screaming that he was a stupid, ignorant git who never listened to a word he said—

"—happy to assist you."

He realised that Harry had said something and that he had not been listening very well. Frowning, he said, "I'm sorry, my mind wandered there for a bit. What did you say, baby?"

"I said it doesn't surprise me that Piper should lure the Priberty Potion into you at a time like this, because she has no regard to other people's lives whatsoever, but I don't blame her for it. It's all right. It's already been done, and job or no job, I would love to become a father again, you know that. I love our family, and I love it every time it grows bigger, save for her monster children... But that's another story really. Anyway, I will do my best to be a part of it this time, and not just during the last three months, I will be there for you this time. And I know that during the times I won't be able to help you, Ron and Jonathan will be happy to assist you."

_Wow. He said all that while my mind was drifting?_ Draco thought, impressed. But then he shook his head to clear it of daydreams and suchlike.

"No, Harry, you haven't been listening to what I've told you. Piper had nothing to do with this..."

Harry stiffened slightly. His face turned stern, and his cheeks were pink with anger. "You did this? When I specifically asked you not to plot any more children behind my back?"

Draco flinched. "Since when have I been _plotting_ children behind your back? Do you have any idea how ruddy insensitive and incredibly selfish you sounded just now? I have not been _plotting behind your back_, Harry, and I haven't taken any potion either. I haven't done anything. Now do you understand why I'm so hesitant about discussing this with you? I knew you'd react like that. You've turned into some sort of overachieving workaholic, and you won't let anything get in the way of your duties. I knew you'd yell at me if I told you I was pregnant... I knew you wouldn't listen..."

He got up and began to walk away, feeling beat and broken. He hated Dumbledore then. The old fart had stolen his husband from him. Harry had changed since he accepted the job at Hogwarts, and it saddened Draco. He was no longer sure that their life would ever go back to what it had once was. Before, they had spent every day together, and they had shared every night with joyous enthusiasm. Now Harry could only spare his weekends, and hardly ever that anymore. Sure, he was home at the Manor between Friday afternoon and Sunday night, but he was often immersed in work, correcting essays or such. Planning the lessons for the following week. And at night, he was often too weary to bother with sex. Draco was starting to feel put aside, as if he did not matter to Harry anymore. And he was starting to feel unhappy with himself, because if he could not even turn on his husband anymore there certainly must be something wrong with him.

It was a miracle he had even got close enough to Harry to get pregnant again, and the saddest thing was that he could pinpoint the exact moment when it had happened. Three weeks and two days back, a Thursday night, 7.34, and it had been raining. When had he ever been able to remember one particular night like that? Their nights had always been a nice repetition of the night before, filled with intimacy and love. But now...

"Draco."

He forced himself to keep going. He did not want to hear it.

"Draco, please wait just one minute." Draco stopped, but he did not turn around. If Harry could not even get up from the chair it was not worth turning around to look at him. He did not deserve that kind of attention. "Do you mean to tell me that we've... that you got pregnant without the help of the Priberty Potion?" he asked in astonishment.

Draco sighed. Was that all he had heard?

"Yes, I am. But since you changed your mind so quickly after learning I was the villain in this pathetic drama of yours, I guess I should make an appointment at St Mungo's first thing in the morning. You won't have to return to your precious work with the awful knowledge of having another baby on the way, I'll take care of everything for you. Quietly, mind. Wouldn't want to alert the press, would we?" Sighing anew, he left the room and fled to the third floor library. Something died in him when Harry did not even come after him. Did he really care that little for Draco? That he could not even bring himself to fight any longer? Maybe all was lost, then.

Harry would return to Hogwarts early tomorrow night, and Draco was surprised to find that he was actually relieved that he was going. But then the tears began to stream down his cheeks, spotting his robes. Defeated, and feeling incredibly small, he crawled into a corner and curled up in the foetal position, desperately hugging himself.

A frightening thought crossed his mind.

_I'm losing him..._

* * *

"Why didn't you go after him?"

Harry started and swirled around in his seat. Timothy was towering over him, and the expression on his face was grave and accusing. The burning anger was apparent in his features. He looked so much like Draco that it was eerie. Harry did not know what to say.

The boy suddenly leant in closer and loomed just above Harry's head. Harry jerked involuntarily. Timothy took hold of his lower arms. "Listen, you idiot!" he hissed in a voice so contorted by wrath and dislike that Harry began to fear that his son had for some reason swapped places with Bond. "I am trying to save you from the ultimate loss, and you are not even appreciating my efforts! Do you know how straining it is to always keep a watch on you whilst attending all my other duties? Do you? I have worked hard to prevent certain things from happening to you because I couldn't stand seeing you so defeated and bereft of everything that you loved – and you push Draco away as easily as you scrath your nose! Can't you even see what is happening? Huh? Can't you even see that you're hurting him?"

Harry just stared at him in fright. He had no idea what 'certain things' Timothy was referring to, but he knew all too well why he was criticizing him. He had let Draco go when he should have comforted him. But he was just so tired...

"Tired?" the boy echoed, as if he had read his mind. "_Tired?!_ How can you be too tired to console your own husband?! Harry, I don't believe you! You have become nothing but a pathetic, self-centred moron who doesn't even see what's happening in his own life. You need to go to him, don't you understand that? He is crying, Harry. _Crying._ I can feel it, and it's tearing me apart. This wasn't supposed to happen again, I should've prevented it by now... but no, your will to destroy yourself and everyone around you was too strong."

"What are you talking about?" Harry inquired indignantly. "What is it that wasn't supposed to happen? And what do you mean 'again'?"

The boy let go of him and stood back up, turning his back to him. With a deep sigh, he lifted his right hand to rub his tired eyes. "In the past that I lived through – your future – my parents were slowly drifting apart. It took more than a decade, but eventually they were forced to admit to themselves that they had lost everything that once bound them together. They had let everything deteriorate so much they didn't even know each other anymore. One day they just realised that they didn't love each other anymore, but they hadn't for many years then. Or so they thought. The reason for this? Harry chose work over his family. Always. I've spent all my free time trying to prevent this, because I figured that it would indirectly mean that I prevented the end as well... but I failed, didn't I? It's already happening. You're already choosing work over Draco, aren't you? Do you know that his heart is slowly growing cold, Harry? Are you aware that you are slowly breaking him down and turning him into an emotionless wreck, unable to feel anything at all? Will you be able to live with yourself if you rob him of everything that ever mattered to him again? Will you?"

Once again, Harry did not know what to say. He had a feeling this had not been part of the blond boy's original plan. He had not intended to tell them anything about his intentions, or about the future that he was trying to change, but when he saw that his plan was not working he had changed his strategy. "Draco..." The name escaped his tongue before he even realised that he had opened his mouth to utter it.

Timothy turned around to face him again. The anger was gone from his face, and now sorrow and misery was reflected in his green eyes. "Harry, you need to contemplate your life – thoroughly. You need to sort out your priorities and decide what is most important to you. And please... do it soon. Before it is too late to take it back. I know the Harry I grew up with didn't want to hurt Draco, or his children, but he took his promise to Dumbledore way too seriously. I'm not sure he should've made that promise from the beginning, because ultimately it destroyed his marriage and drove his son to the Dark Lord." When Timothy saw that Harry flinched at this, he forced a faint smile. Only the shadow of a smile. "Don't take it too personally, father. You are not the Harry that I am talking about. As soon as I made the first intervention in your lives, I created a kind of alternative universe. It is not an alternative universe in the sense that you think – not at all like the Parallel Universes you have experience of – but a world only existing in the future. The life that I have led still exists, and it will until you reach the day on which I began my journeys. If I have succeeded to change anything by then, those events will take the place of the events that I originally experienced, and the Harry that you would've been had I not ventured to the past will cease to exist and you will take his place. But if I fail... everything will remain just the way it has always been, and all my efforts will have been in vain. Please, Harry, don't screw this up for me. You have no idea what will come to pass if you choose the same path as your future self did. If you..." He fell silent, obviously trying to find the right words. "If you keep choosing your work over Draco, if you don't start spending more time with your family... Draco will die, Harry. This is not something I'm making up just to make you motivated, this is the truth. And I don't want him to die."

Harry stared at the boy's tear-filled green eyes and his trembling lower lip. Suddenly weak and trembling himself, he carefully got up from his chair. Taking a step towards his son, he whispered, "Draco's going to die? When? How?" It was too painful to believe.

The boy lowered his gaze. "I cannot tell you. I'm not even supposed to tell you as much as I have. If I give you too much information about the future, you might go about doing stupid things to change certain events and only wind up making things worse – for everyone. But if you're not careful, you will lose everything that you love, Harry. My father... the Harry that I remember from my childhood... he would always prioritise his school duty, he would always put those kids first... And he forgot about his own children, about his husband... Harry and Draco drifted apart, but they never separated. They stayed together for the sake of their children – for us. But not even then did Harry realise the severity of his situation... not until it was too late. It wasn't until he held Draco's body in his arms that he realised how much he had lost by devoting his life to the Order. It wasn't until then he realised that he still loved Draco as much as he ever had, but then it was too late to make up for his mistakes. Draco was already dead. Only recently he asked me for a chance to speak to Draco one last time, to ask him if he blamed him for his death and everything that had come between them, but Draco told him that he blamed Harry for nothing. He still loved him. Nothing had changed between them. It was a small comfort for Harry, but he still couldn't get his husband back, and it had taken him more than two years to even work up the courage to ask me that favour. After that meeting he made me promise to save him. He has faith in me still, and he believes that I'll be able to change the past and erase all his darkest memories, but you are screwing it up for me."

Hearing the truth so bluntly spoken made Harry's heart break into a million pieces. As the picture of his possible future started to develop in his mind he realised that he had been a jerk. He was a fool for not seeing what he was doing to his family. And he would put a stop to it before it was too late.

"Where is he?" he asked simply, not willing to accept the possibility that Draco would die just yet. Right now he needed to focus on the present and make sure that he did not leave the Manor with Draco hating him again.

"The library," Timothy replied with certainty.

Harry found the door closed – they always left it ajar – and entered without knocking. At first glance, the room appeared to be deserted. "Draco?" he called uncertainly.

A tiny sob came from the innermost part of the library.

Harry felt a stab of pain as he hurried through the maze of bookcases until he found the blonde in a shivering heap on the floor. He looked as if he was having a seizure of some kind. Terrified, Harry ran up to him and kneeled beside him. "Draco, baby, I am so sorry," he said desperately as he put his arms around the blonde in a protective embrace. "I'm sorry. I should've come after you the moment you rushed out of the parlour. No. I should've listened to you and discussed the matter with you like an adult instead of driving you away from me like that. You shouldn't've had to run away crying at all. And I'm embarrassed and ashamed to admit that it didn't even cross my mind afterwards... it was Timothy who made me realise that you need me now. Like you've always needed me, and like I've always needed you. I can't believe I actually forgot about that, and I'm glad he made me realise my mistake before it was too late." He fell silent when he noticed that Draco had stiffened in his grasp. A new fear crept up on him. "It isn't too late, is it?" he now asked Draco.

The blonde could not find his voice for many minutes, but when he did he managed to soothe Harry like he himself never had. "It's not too late, Harry. You're just on time. Letting it wait until the next weekend you decided to spend with me would be too late." The bitterness in his voice effectively killed something within Harry, but he chose to ignore it for the time being. Instead he held Draco closer, allowing him to continue. "I was so scared when I found out...," he whispered, tears once again blurring his vision, emotion anew thickening his voice. "You've been so cold to me lately... I thought our arrangement would work, with you coming home each weekend... but lately you haven't been home much, not even when you've actually _been_ here. Your mind's always been someplace else. And that hurts me. I want you to be here with me, I want you to see me and only me when you're here, and I want to be your first priority. Always. I know I should tell you to consider your children your first priority, but... I want them to come second. Is that selfish of me?"

"No, it's not selfish of you," Harry cooed, and smoothed the blonde's hair. "You have all the right in the world to claim me for yourself – I'm your husband, I should always think of you first. I realise now that I've been neglecting you – again. But that will stop now. I won't allow myself to do that anymore, because if I do..." He recalled that he could not tell Draco he would die. That would only upset him. So, instead, he said, "... I will lose you."

Draco snuggled closer into the embrace. "Will you start by promising me one thing?"

"Sure, anything."

"Quit your job."

Harry stiffened. "What?"

"Quit your job. Move back home. It's simple, really. Just come back to me."

Harry withdrew from him a bit. "But I can't do that, they need me—"

"I need you!" the blonde shouted, suddenly furious with him. "I need you, _we_ need you! Doesn't that mean anything at all to you? You just said you'd promise me anything. Were you lying, Harry?"

"N-no, I wasn't lying, I just... I have an obligation to Dumbledore and the Order, and..."

Draco snorted and scrambled up to his feet. "You have an obligation," he said scornfully. "Of course you have an obligation to that old lummox. But what about your obligation to _me_? I married you, Harry, I married you although I'd promised myself never to marry anyone. I didn't need it. But when you asked me... when _you_ proposed to me..." He did not finish the sentence. Instead he just shook his head sadly. "Never mind. It doesn't matter to you anyway."

He left the library at a run, but this time Harry did not make the same mistake again. He ran after him, persistently and insistently calling his name. But Draco locked himself in their bedroom and refused to open the door. Harry could not open it with the Alohomora Spell or any other unlocking spell he knew.

"_Fuck_!"

Why did he always have to screw up? Why could not he just do the right thing for once?

Suddenly someone grabbed his collar from behind and jerked him towards the wall. He slammed into the wall next to the bedroom door, and an excruciating pain shot through his shoulder and spread to his neck, right arm, back, and chest. A small cry escaped him.

"I thought I told you to make it up with him!" a fierce, hoarse voice snarled in his ear.

Harry jerked his head around. "Timothy?" he said, astounded.

"Shut up!" the boy warned, and pressed him harder against the wall. Harry protested in pain. "You don't have any right to call me that if you can't even be good to my Daddy! You're a lousy, lying, cheating, self-absorbed, good-for-nothing arse and you can't do anything right! You're pathetic, a failure! And you've made me a failure, too."

His harsh words cut into Harry like samurai swords.

Timothy pressed his entire body weight against Harry, putting most of the pressure on his neck.

"Timmy, please, I can't breathe..."

"_Shut up!_"

The bedroom door flung open and Draco came flying out. "What the Hell are you doing?!" He threw himself on Timothy's back and tried to prise him off Harry, but he was too strong. Almost superhumanly strong. Harry did not get it. Why was he attacking him? This was not their son... this was not the mild, melancholy Time Manipulator they had known for so long... This was someone else – or _something_ else. But who? What?

"Let go of him!" Draco demanded, growling deep down in his throat.

"No! Not until he tells you he's sorry!" Timothy shouted.

Harry heard a strange wheezing sound and wondered who had brought in an asthmatic, but then he realised it was his own strained breathing he heard. Small black dots was dancing at the edges of his vision. His lungs were screaming for air, and his head was beginning to feel heavy. His legs were giving away.

"No!" Draco pulled more persistently at Timothy's arms and finally managed to prise him off Harry. The raven-haired man fell to the floor with his hands clasped around his sore neck, desperately gasping for air. Draco forced the boy to back away from him. "What the Hell are you doing to my Harry?!" he shrieked in the boy's ear. "Are you trying to widow me? Huh? Have you lost your mind just like your sister?"

At the mentioning of Joz, Timothy suddenly became limp in Draco's grasp, as if all his strength had been drained away. He sank to the floor. His forehead almost touched the floor when he said, "What is she doing to me?" It was only a faint whisper, but both Draco and Harry heard him more than clearly.

Draco blinked in confusion. "Who?"

Timothy began to cry. "I thought I had stopped her... I thought I was free of her... but killing her wasn't enough, was it?" he asked, but the question did not seem to be directed at them.

Draco knelt beside him. Hesitantly, trembling, he put a hand on the boy's shoulder. "Timothy, what are you talking about? Who have you killed?"

Harry was amazed at the calm in his voice. He would not have managed to ask such a question with so much warmth and love and understanding. The truth was, he was a bit afraid of Timothy at that moment.

The boy took a few deep breaths to collect himself. "In the future, where I come from, I was enslaved," he told them with a of me..."

Yes, they both remembered. Back when they had first got to know him, he had been a very troubled boy, indifferent and sleepy-looking, almost emotionless. The sadness that was so often reflected in his stunning green eyes was not entirely a product of everything that he had seen as a Time Manipulator during his sixteen years of walking the earth, but also because of 'Her'. 'She' had inflicted it on him. But he had never told them who 'She' was.

Timothy began to shudder badly. "I even killed for her," he admitted pathetically.

Draco jolted. When he looked up at Harry, there was fear and realisation in his silver eyes. But Harry could not see what he had seen, so he just waited for Timothy to continue.

"I... I didn't know what I was doing, because she always had me under her spell. She made me cold and mechanical. Like some kind of robot. Or a puppet. She'd pull my strings and I'd dance for her. Only hers was a preferance for a deadly dance that I performed without even questioning the morals in killing one's own kin."

Draco fell back against the wall opposite the one Harry was leaning against. The expression on his face betrayed that he already knew what Timothy would say next. And Harry thought that he was beginning to understand as well.

Tears were silently rolling down the boy's face. Drip, drip. "She made me kill everyone. I think... I think it was after I found out she'd killed Blaise... I caught her in the act, and I knew she'd kill me, too, to prevent me from telling anyone what she'd done to Blaise."

"Blaise?" Harry echoed. "But that's impossible. Draco killed Blaise..."

The blonde gasped in shock. Neither of them had ever said that aloud since Piper had managed to straighten out Draco's multiple personalities.

Harry instantly regretting uttering that statement. "Oh, I'm sorry, Dracums, I didn't mean to say it like that, I was just pointing out that this woman couldn't possibly have killed Blaise since... since we know otherwise. Sorry, babe."

Before Draco could answer him, Timothy continued. "I wasn't talking about Blaise Zabini," he protested. He looked at Draco's still-flat belly with an eerie, confirming look in his eyes. "I was talking about Blaise Malfoy."

Draco looked as if he had been stricken. "H-how did you... How did you know that I wanted to name the baby Blaise if it was a boy?" he wondered weakly.

Stupid question. Timothy was from the future, so he would obviously know his baby brother's name. This confirmed something very important to Draco, and he turned to Harry and smiled. That smile witnessed that everything that had been about to destroy their marriage was forgotten and forgiven.

Harry had not forced him to give up the baby.

They turned to Timothy anew, and he reluctantly resumed his recount of the past that they would eventually know as their future if nothing was done to prevent it.

"So she begun to make me her slave... she created a special ring that would enable her to practice her unusual powers on me. I carried it around my neck for eight years. Two years ago... in my time, that is ... when Harry went into war against Lord Pywercaseley, she made me kill them... all of them... First she just wanted me to kill the small ones, the easy ones, because they were in her way. Touma was the first one."

Touma, Piper and Yousuke's youngest son, now two years old. So, if Timothy was sixteen in that future of his, that would have made Touma fifteen when he killed him, right?

"But why did she call them 'the small ones'?" he pondered aloud. "Touma must've been fifteen, right? He's one year younger than you. And Takashi's the same age as you, and Natsumi is three years older than you..."

Timothy met his eyes with regret. "I know. But you see, Touma was never allowed to grow up."

"What do you mean? Of course he must have grown up, he's—"

"No." Timothy firmly shook his head. "Piper was always very protective of little Touma because he was her youngest, and he was... well, he was simply very cute and very innocent. Always smiling. So she tried her best to always keep a watch on him. That only resulted in him sneaking away more than children usually do, and Touma was very clever. When he was five, he somehow managed to get inside Piper's secret potion storage, and he drank a fair deal of Infinity Potion. Since he was too young to take it, and drank such a large quantity, he stayed five for the rest of his life. So, you see he was pretty easy for me to kill... Then came Takashi, as you predicted, then Natsumi, the twins... And so it went on until I had killed them all. Including Piper and Yousuke themselves. She used my powers as a Time Manipulator to get rid of all the people that she thought was standing in her way."

Harry lowered his gaze.

Draco, who had up until then sat quietly, save for his question about baby Blaise, now opened his mouth to utter the words that they had all dreaded acknowledging. "Timothy, this 'She'... It's Joz, isn't it? She's the one who's been controlling you, isn't she?"

The boy nodded.

The silence that settled between them was oppressive.

"I don't know how she did it," Timothy suddenly said, and sounded astonished and bemused.

Harry lifted his gaze once more to look at him quizzically. "What do you mean?"

"She made me attack you. I wasn't aware of her presence within my mind, but she must've found a way to enter it already, even though she is only nine years old. I have no memory of her attempting anything like that until I was eight. She wasn't supposed to use me until then, so this means that the change of events caused a chain reaction that I didn't anticipate. Being at St Mungo's apparently made no difference." He looked up at them. "You need to tell the Healers that the medicine doesn't work anymore, they need to find something else for her. If they don't... she'll continue to use me as a pawn in her game, whatever that is. I was never able to figure out what she wanted from me."

He left them with much to contemplate that evening. He had intended to warn Harry about the chain of events that would take place if he kept putting his job before Draco and the children, but he had never intended to attempt murder. It was the second time Joz had almost succeeded to use him to kill off their parents. That revelation was rather scary.

Therefore, Sunday morning, Draco went to St Mungo's as planned, but not to get an abortion. He spoke to the Healers that were taking care of Joz for them and told them how she had begun to master mind control. They found it extremely unsettling, as did Harry and Draco, and they immediately set to work trying to find another potion to keep Joz at bay. If they did not succeed... there would be nothing they could do. And if they could do nothing more for Josephine Fionah Malfoy, Harry knew that Timothy would find a way to deal with her personally.

He had done it once – he could do it again.

Draco did not make Harry promise to quit his job, but Harry could see that he wanted to. And to be honest... Harry wanted to quit, too. But he kept telling himself that he was doing the right thing.

Therefore he once again went to Dumbledore first thing he came back to Hogwarts to discuss the conditions of his employment there as teacher.

Somehow they would all make it work.

Somehow...

But Timothy's words kept echoing through Harry's mind, disturbing his sleep and robbing him of his concentration in class.

_"If you keep choosing your work over Draco, if you don't start spending more time with your family... Draco will die, Harry."_

_**Die.**_

_(To be continued...)_

"Kodoku ni dakareta, boku o koroshite"

* * *

**_This is what happens when the characters grow really strong, hehe... ;P They take over the story and start making it up themselves. But that's not so bad, either. They know what they're doing._**

**_R&R!!  
Love, Piper_**


	52. Rape 3: Here he stands the accused

**Rating:** NC-17

**Pairing:** H/D

**Disclaimer:** All the characters belong to J.K.Rowling, except for my creations Piper, James, Joz, Timothy, Blaise Malfoy, Jonathan Kelly, Sarah Kelly-Weasley, Jonas, and the Sakanoues.

**Disclaimer II:** The nickname "Dracums" belongs to Golden, mind.

**A/N:** All right, here you have everything that _should've_ happened in part two... :p Sorry for the wait, mates. But, mind you, the parts with Timothy was not supposed to happen, either – they are simply a follow-up on chapter 2. Now it'll get hotter for a while again... (kinky smile)

* * *

**Rape, part three  
Here he stands the accused**

Suddenly things were moving real fast again. Harry felt as if his life was speeding by at a crazy, breakneck pace. One day, Draco told him he was pregnant – the other day baby Blaise celebrated his first birthday. Two years passed in such a daze that Harry felt as if he had lost track of time altogether. The only one who did not seem bothered by this was Timothy. When he next came to visit them, over two years after his attack on Harry, he showed no sign of shock at the changes that had occurred in his absence. Little Timothy, now six years old, merely greeted his older, future self with a quick nod and went on with his business.

Despite everything that had happenend, and everything they had discussed, Harry was still working at Hogwarts. But at least now he knew his priorities. And that particular Tuesday afternoon he returned to his quarters feeling as if all his strength had been wrung out of him. Since James started at Hogwarts, Harry had been given a hard time. He tried his best not to make it too obvious that James was his son, but many of the teachers remembered the raven-haired boy that had once ackompanied Harry to work and watched him as he taught excited fifth-years to defend themselves from various jinxes and curses, and James hated it when they stopped to share memories of those days with him. He was now thirteen years old and already showing qualities that had been Tom's trademarks.

Harry was worried about him, so he tried to keep an eye on him at all times, but without being seen himself. Rumours had it that James was unhealthily interested in and fascinated with the Dark Arts, the activities of the Death Eaters, and the late Lord Voldemort. As soon as he had a few hours to himself and all his homework was done, he sat in the Slytherin common room pouring over ancient books on curses that he had somehow checked out from the closed section in the school library. But no teacher appeared to have signed any slip for him.

That Tuesday afternoon Harry had confronted James about it, and the boy had not been happy. If anything, Harry had only succeeded to make himself more of a stranger to his son.

With a deep sigh, he shut the door behind himself. But instead of walking up to his favourite chair and sitting down to calm himself down, he remained standing with his hands on the door.

_This is not how I pictured my life to be when we started our family_, he thought gloomily to himself.

He sensed rather than saw the movement behind him, and he did not have time to react before a set of strong arms were closed around him and someone's slightly pointy chin was rested against his left shoulderblade. He knew those arms and that chin better than he knew the palms of his own hands, but started nonetheless at the sudden touch. A smile came to his lips. All the worries of the day faded away as effectively as an Invisibility Cloak consealed a man from other's prying stares. "Hey, baby," he murmured affectionately, "this is a pleasant surprise."

Draco kissed him on the shoulder. He could feel his warm, soft lips even through the thick layers of his formal teacher's robes and the cloak he was wearing over them, and it sent pleasant shivers down his spine. "I've missed you, and I've been craving for you," the blonde unearthed, and his voice was thick with desire. "Ultimately I couldn't stand another minute without you, so I left the children with Jonathan and sneaked in."

Harry leant back into the embrace and closed his eyes. "You managed to sneak in without being noticed?" he wondered, impressed.

"'Course I did. I had your Cloak."

Of course. He had left his father's Invisibility Cloak at the Manor. How silly of him. In these uncertain times, he might need it unexpectedly. But it was a good thing that he had forgotten to bring it to Hogwarts if it meant Draco could smuggle himself into the castle at any time without getting caught. (Dumbledore had clearly expressed his dislike at having a teacher's family running around the school.)

The blonde fumbled with his robes for a minute, found the parting, and began to pull them off him. The cloak fell to his feet. Still, Harry was facing the door, and when his husband's hot, groping fingers touched his bared skin he gasped and shuddered in anticipation. It seemed only a second passed before he was completely naked, save for his socks. Draco turned him around and eyed him with great appreciation. His silver eyes lingered on his nether rergions. When he looked up at Harry, he uttered a demand that astonished and sort of unsettled Harry. "Dance for me."

Harry blinked. "Excuse me?"

"Dance for me," the blonde repeated, grinning teasingly, but obviously obscenely intent on having his way.

Harry stood in uncomfortable indecision.

Draco laughed at the expression on his face and put his arms around his neck. "I'm only fucking with you!" he said emphatically. Then he placed a sweet, mint-scented kiss on Harry's uncurled lips. His eyes were like cold, grey fires when they bore into him. Such intensity. They captured him. Intrigued him. A new shiver passed through him as the blonde drew closer, cheek to cheek, and whispered in his ear: "Now I want to fuck you."

Harry's dick instantly rose to the occasion and began to throb painfully. It was so sexy to be seduced so bluntly, and nobody could do it better than Draco, he was sure. The blonde knew what he wanted, and he would get it. "You need to take off your clothes for that," Harry reminded him, indirectly urging him to hurry, hurry by nibbling at the blonde's earlobe and whining pleadingly in his ear.

Draco placed his strong, masculine hands on Harry's hips. Muttered, "Repello clothes." His robes, cloak, and underwear were effectively discarded of with the simple Repelling Spell, and he stood fair and natural before Harry, his pale skin glowing beautifully in the dim candlelight. With a short look on Harry, he took his hand in his and led him through the small office and into the adjoining bedroom. Apparently, he had been preparing for this special moment; there were candles burning everywhere in the small room, and blood-red rose petals had been strewn all over the bed. It was so beautiful he could not take his eyes off it.

"You've done all this for _me_?" he asked disbelievingly, thinking that he did not deserve this prize.

"Yes, I wanted to make you see just how much you mean to me," Draco murmured against his nape. "And besides... today is the anniversary of the day we first kissed. We have now officially been together for sixteen years. That calls for celebration, if you ask me."

He bit down carefully, and Harry cried out in a sudden rush of desire. He forcefully threw himself down on his back on the bed and pulled Draco down on top of him. Their lips smashed together almost painfully. When the blonde broke the kiss, he moved down a bit and began to lick and suck and bite at Harry's neck, then his chest. His tongue drew lazy circles around Harry's left nipple. His muscles tensed, ready for action, and his breathing became quicker and more strained for each second that ticked by. He meowled as Draco deliberately bit him in the nipple.

The blonde grinned. "Wanna continue yet?" he wondered in a teasing tone.

"Huh, yeah... please... go on." The words were hard to get out.

And with an even wider grin, the blonde said, "Lubricous," and looked as if he was about to laugh any second now.

Harry frowned. "What the Hell was that?"

Draco began to chuckle. "I devised a lube charm," he confessed, and then pointed to his penis. "Look! I'm all lubed up and ready to go now!" He burst into laughter and shook his head at his own wittiness.

Harry joined him in his laughter, and for a moment it seemed as if the mood had been ruined by the gag. But then Draco became serious and met Harry's eyes with such intensity that the look alone made him hots for him. And, lubed up as he was, Draco easily slid inside Harry, never for a second breaking eye contact. That must have been some miracle lube, because the blonde moved with such an ease that it seemed as if he needed no effort at all to do as he pleased. Which meant that he had more energy to focus on the subject beneath him. As if reading Harry's mind, the blonde grinned slyly, and thrust deep inside him, picking up speed.

"Ah, Draco!"

The clash of flesh on flesh, skin against skin, rang through the dim room, perfectly marking the blonde's rapid rhythm, and the friction created an odd magic that never could have originated from the tip of a wand. The candlelight licked Draco's body, giving it a golden quality to the pallor, and the shadows that fell upon him flattered his aristocratic beauty. Harry let his fingers slide down the blonde's back, tracing the lines of his features, dreaming himself away. The dim light made him feel dazed. Everything became fuzzy as the blonde bore down on him with lips and tongue, covering him in hot kisses and tauntingly playing with his rigid nipples.

Harry arched his back. He was losing control of himself. All he knew was that he was floating in an ocean of rose petals, and that Draco was floating there with him. "Haahh... God..." Draco stole a kiss from him, their lips smashing together almost painfully. It felt as if they were eating each other up. But it was a lovely feeling. It left him wanting more – _craving_ more. Pressing himself up against the blonde's incessantly rocking body, he moved his arm further up the blonde's back and ran his fingers through his silky silver hair while shoving his tongue deeper down Draco's throat.

Sweat trickled down his face; never had he experienced such a lovely heat. Their entire bodies were perspiring, coating them in a thin film of moist. Sticky, they clung to each other.

Suddenly Draco broke free of the kiss and expelled a series of half-suppressed cries of pleasure that sounded more like the whimpers of a dying dog. Harry knew what he was doing. He was trying to be quiet lest someone would hear them. If anyone found out he was there, he would probably be banned from Hogwarts for as long as he lived; Dumbledore wanted no distractions for his staff.

Feeling mischievous, Harry took a firm grip of Draco's buttocks and squeezed them, forcing the blonde deeper inside him. Gasping, he threw his head back when the blonde slid against his prostrate. He did it again. And again. Squeezed harder. He could feel Draco stiffen within him.

"Harry... oh God, Harry, yes..."

As Draco was starting to tremble with impending orgasm, close but yet some distance away, he reached down and grabbed Harry's erection. Forcefully and insanely fast, he stroked him, and Harry shouted out loud, no longer caring if anyone overheard them; he wanted Draco to know how much he loved it when he did that. The little control he had still possessed over himself was lost and seemed impossible to re-establish. He bucked and thrashed beneath the blonde, amazed at how he could both stroke him so fiercely and still thrust into him with such feverish determination. Each thrust pushed into his body with immense power, and each time another cry of euphory escaped him. Draco was still trying hard not to make a single sound, but eventually his walls broke down and he could no longer keep the shouts locked in. When they reached climax together, he relented his neurotic self-control and gave a long, exhausting shout that seemed to shatter the world around them.

Harry desperately squeezed Draco's buttocks extra hard for support and pushed himself up, seeking out the blonde's mouth amongst all the sparkling nerves and the trembling flesh. Not even the kiss shut Draco up; he kept meowling into Harry's mouth for what seemed like hours and hours on end.

He fell on top of Harry, panting into his open mouth, his forehead knocking into Harry's with a _THOCK!_ Neither of them had any energy to move. Harry felt as if his very life essence had been fucked out of him. No matter how much he focused his brains and told his arms to move up and touch Draco's flushed, sweaty face could he muster the strength to do so.

Slowly, they calmed down.

Draco chuckled deep down in his throat and sounded awfully obscene in Harry's ears, which made him curious to know what was so funny. "You're still holding my arse," he informed Harry in a kinky, but mocking, voice.

Harry pretended to be offended. "Who are you to talk? You're still holding my dick in your left hand. You let my dick go, I let your arse go."

"I'm sorry, I can't. I'm too pooped."

They laughed at the irony in that.

Then Harry managed to find enough strength to lift his head somewhat and kiss the tip of Draco's nose. "I like it when you hold my dick," he murmured.

"Oh, ho, don't even try, mister! I just said I was pooped, and you try to get another round out of it? You are some demanding lover, Harry Malfoy."

Harry winced. "I still don't like the ring of that name."

Draco slapped him with his right palm. "Bastard."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Oh, so you have enough energy to hit me, do you?"

"I always have enough energy to hit you."

They remained nude on the rosy bed for another half-hour. Then Harry forced himself to get up and start to dress. Draco raised himself on one arm to watch him. It was extremely difficult to button his shirt when his eyes kept flicking over to the naked blonde, still bathing in the lovely amber light, so obviously trying to make himself look like a delicious dish, what with the way he presented his package to him. Harry was really reluctant to leave him there, and he reeeaaally longed to slip back down and have some more of that rose-specked, floating world, but he needed to go about his duties as normal if he wanted to keep Draco's presence there unknown to his colleagues.

"Going down to dinner?" the blonde asked lazily.

"Yeah. Sorry you can't come with me, but..."

"I know. Fetch me something from the kitched afterwards, will you? All this sex has made me hungry."

"Will do," Harry said, and sat down on the edge of the bed to kiss Draco goodbye.

The blonde instantly rose to receive the kiss. Boy, he really must be hungry, because he was sucking Harry's soul out with those velvety lips and that naughty tongue! Oh, Harry wanted to stay and get into bed and make love again and—

He swiftly broke free of him. "No," he said, "you're only making me horny again. I'd better go before I get too excited or I may get stuck here for another year or two." He rose from the bed anew.

Draco looked up at him with a pleased expression. He licked his lips in a very sensuous manner.

Harry's blood began to boil, and his groin ached with lust.

"No," he said again, backing away.

But Draco was enjoying the game too much to give up that easily. He, too, rose from the bed and followed Harry until they were face to face. Very, very slowly, he pressed his lips to Harry's again. Then he turned his face somewhat and buried his nose in Harry's messy hair. Inhaled deeply. "You smell like sex, Harry," he informed the raven-haired man seriously. "Perhaps you want to take a bath before strutting down to dinner – someone might notice and put two and two together."

"I don't care. Let them smell me, then. It's not like they're going to walk up to me and say, 'Harry, you smell like sex – could I have a look in you quarters, please?' Honestly, those old farts won't know a thing. They can't recognise something they've never experienced themselves, right?" He gave Draco one last, quick kiss. "Be good while I'm away, will you? Stay right here and I'll be back in thirty minutes with some food and a boner."

"Then I'll be ready to binge and bang, then."

With that promise, Harry left his quarters/office almost at a run, anxious to get dinner over with and come back for some 'binging and banging'. Mostly for the banging part, actually. For some reason, Snape wished to engage him in a conversation for the first time ever, and Harry felt extremely annoyed with him. Why did he have to talk _now_ when he had not wished to talk to him at all during all those years when Harry was his student, and later when Harry moved in with his nephew?

It did not make any sense, for crying out loud!

When he could finally slip away – half an hour later than he had promised Draco – he rushed down to the kitchen and asked Dobby to put together a small feast for him and Draco, and then ran all the way up to his quarters with the food securely in his arms.

"Finally!" Draco called from the bedroom when he smashed the door open and stumbled inside, panting and wheezing. "I'm starving!"

He came out of the bedroom naked, and it took Harry all the self-control he possessed not to jump him right there and then; the blonde needed to eat first. There was time for lovemaking later.

When the blonde had eaten and appreciatively complimented the food and the puddings, he licked his fingers contentedly and smiled up at Harry, whom was standing by the window, looking out at the lake. "I had forgotten how lovely Hogwarts food can be," he said delightedly. "You're lucky having it every day."

"Maybe. But I would rather eat porridge everyday with you than eating Hogwarts food without you."

Draco rose to his feet. "Oh, you're so sweet..." He walked over to Harry and lovingly put his arms around his waist. He rested his chin against Harry's shoulderblades. "What's the teachers' bath like?"

"The teachers' bath?" Harry repeated. "It's like the Prefects' bath, only bigger and bubblier. Why?"

Draco put his lips to Harry's nape. "I was thinking... maybe we could go up there and... make love in the bubbles?" he suggested, and the desire was plain in his thick voice.

Harry's groin immediately began to tingle. "All right."

He encroached Draco in the Invisibility Cloak and led the way through the castle. Since all the teachers were at dinner there really should not be any risk in taking a bath together, Harry decided. They would have the huge bath to themselves.

Draco began turning on taps of perfumed bubbles every colour as soon as they got inside. "Funny... it's just like the Prefect's bath," he observed approvingly. Then he looked up at Harry. "How come you know that, by the way? You weren't a Prefect."

"No, but I used the bath ones in my fourth year. Cedric told me how to. To figure out the clue in my golden egg. You know, for the Triwizard Tournament."

"Yeah, I remember those. Worse than Howlers, huh?"

He undressed and slipped into the water. Then he beckoned to Harry to follow.

In the water, Harry embraced Draco. "How come you never took me to the Prefect's bath while we were dating?" he asked curiously.

Draco shrugged. "Dunno. Guess I never thought about it."

Their night would have been perfect, had they only been left alone, but somebody obviously had other plans. It had seemed ideal to spend an hour or so in the bath, enjoying the bubbles and some soft lovemaking before going to bed for a good night's sleep. And it all started out fine. Draco was resting against the wall of the huge pool while Harry gently pushed inside him from behind. Supporting himself with his arms just above the edge of the pool, Draco made small panting noises as Harry thrust into him. This time they moved more slowly, savouring each sensation like it was their last moment in life, and the hot water and the scented bubbles made it even more wonderful. Draco was just about to reach his peak, squealing slightly, when the door was flung open and someone came bursting in. They stopped moving and opened their eyes, but they did not draw apart.

"Harry! Oh, Harry, there you are! I've been searching all over for you, and..."

Professor Flitwick fell silent as he realised that Harry was not alone. Squirming uncomfortably, he turned his back to them and cleared his throat uneasily. "Um, Harry... I'm awfully sorry to disturb, I didn't know you had company... but something horrific has happened, and I think it is best if you come with me immediately!"

Something in the little professor's voice made Harry's heart skip a beat of worry. Had this something to do with Lord Pywercaseley? Was he trying to invade Hogwarts again?

"What is it?" he asked, and noticed that he sounded harsher than he had intended to.

The little teacher squirmed even more. "Well, I'd rather not tell you here, like this... it is better if you come with me and see for yourself."

Draco hit him in his thigh. "Get out!" he whispered irritably. He seemed awfully embarrassed, but Harry could not quite grasp why.

"What?" he whispered back in bewilderment.

"You're still inside me!"

Oh. Right. Harry had had no mind to withdraw from Draco the moment the professor burst into the bath, but now he discreetly pulled back and settled beside the blonde. Of course he had been embarrassed about being so intimately joined in front of a teacher, what had Harry been thinking?

"Er..." Harry began. "...maybe you could step outside while we dress...?"

"Oh! Of course. Certainly!" Flitwick said, and hurried out of the room.

They swiftly pulled their robes on and left the bath. No need for Draco to hide beneath the Invisibility Cloak now, so they emerged holding hands, both eager to hear what was so urgent that Flitwick interrupted his colleague in the bath. "It's James," he said regretfully when they were all headed towards the staircases.

Harry and Draco started simultaneously. "What?" Harry said.

"What's happened to James?" Draco demanded anxiously.

Flitwick seemed to squirm even worse now than he had at seeing them naked together just a few minutes ago. "Well... it's not so much what has happened to James as what he has done..." he said uncertainly.

"Done?" Harry echoed. "What do you mean? Is he in some kind of trouble?"

"You could say that, yes."

Flitwick led them to the Slytherin common room, outside which Professor McGonagall was standing guard against curious students who tried to enter it. Harry's intestines turned to ice at the sight of her. Whatever James had done, it was bad. Really bad. Otherwise they would not have sealed off the entire Slytherin dormitory area.

"I told you we should've demanded they let him change houses!" Draco hissed in Harry's ear as they approached the stern-looking teacher.

"We did, remember? But they wouldn't let him."

"I don't care. Slytherin is no good place for him, and now look what came out of it."

"Ssschh. We don't even know what he's done yet."

They stopped in front of McGonagall. A strangely sad and pitying glint glimmered in her beady eyes for a fraction of a second as she looked upon them. "Harry, I am so sorry, there was nothing I could do for him," she said, and the words echoed through Harry's head as if it had been a vast cave.

Nothing she could do for him? Oh God, he was not dead, was he?!

Draco seemed to come to that conclusion himself, for he pushed past McGonagall and rushed inside the common room in a panic. He stopped dead just by the couch area.

Harry could not believe his eyes. Their son was lying on the floor, arms and legs splayed, apparently Stunned. So he was not dead. That was good. But the entire staff was standing around him, so he guessed it was not so good after all. Half dazed, he noticed that Madam Pomfrey was standing by one of the armchairs, and at a closer look he saw that a petite girl was sitting in it. An enormous blanket had been wrapped around her, and she was hugging herself, hysterically rocking back and forth in the chair. Harry frowned. "What's happened here, really?" he asked.

Ironically, it was Snape who answered. Harry had expected him to make some dry remark on the cloud of perfume that Draco and he travelled in, but nothing of the sort escaped him. "Miss Abbott was found raped only ten minutes ago and in a horrible state. Catatonic. Blood all over the place, clothes ripped into shreds... and your son was found sitting next to her, covered in her blood." The last four words came out as a harsh and merciless accusation that startled Harry. It was as if Snape blamed _him_ for what had happened.

Then the words sank in. "No..." he whispered in denial.

Draco gasped beside him. "You... you don't mean to say that... that you think _James_..."

Snape fixed his gaze to the blonde's. "I don't recall Dumbledore sending you an invitation to this party, Mr Malfoy," he scorned.

They ignored him. "Speaking of which," Harry said, "where _is_ Dumbledore?"

"I am right here, Harry," came the brittle voice from behind them.

The old Headmaster had just come into the room together with Cornelius Fudge, and they had a whole bunch of beefy blokes in tow. Harry immediately grasped their intention. "Wait a minute!" he said harshly. "Are you just going to take him away without even hearing his story?!"

Dumbledore lowered his head in resignation and shook it so that the white hair and beard danced in an invisible updraught. He sighed heavily before replying his young employee. "Harry... my dear boy..."

"Reality check, Dumbledore – I'm thirty-one!"

Snape could not help but jump right into the conversation, apparently. "Really? You don't look a day older than nineteen, and your manners are still those of a snotty brat, obviously," he drawled, his black eyes narrowed and fixed on Harry.

Harry shot him a murderous look. "And you look like you're in your fifties! Now shut up and stay out of this! You should refrain from sticking your nose into other people's business!" he yelled.

Draco put a hand on his lower left arm to restrain him. "Harry, baby, calm down, he's just trying to provoce you."

"Yeah, he's doing quite a good job at it, too! How come you're so calm and collected all of a sudden?! Did you hear what they just accused our son of?!"

"Yes, I did, but I know he's innocent so I won't let them get to me," Draco announced with a confident glare at the Ministry people. "James would never hurt another person, much less force himself onto some poor girl."

"That's why he needs to get a chance to tell his side of the story!" Harry bellowed furiously. He turned to Dumbledore again. "Could we please have a moment alone with our son, _sir_?"

The Headmaster flinched at the acidity and the repulsion in his voice as he pronounced the title. But then he nodded and gestured to the Minister and his company to step outside for a moment. Reluctantly, the other teachers followed, but Madam Pomfrey remained by the side of the shocked girl.

Harry knelt down at his son's side and raised his wand. "Enervate." The boy slowly came out of his stunned state and blinked up at him in confusion. "Dad?" he croaked, then spotted Draco standing behind him. "Daddy? What are you doing here?" He sat up with some effort. "What happened to me?"

"You were Stunned," Harry told him sternly. "James, they say you raped a girl tonight. Tell me the truth. Did you do it?"

The boy flinched as if hit. The shock in his eyes was genuine. "Wha—? No! How can you even ask me that question?!" he exclaimed incredulously and pushed away from him.

Harry gave him some space. "I'm sorry, James, but I had to ask you that. Of course I know you're innocent—"

"We both know you're innocent," Draco put in with a faint smile for support.

"—and we're on your side, but we're not the ones to decide upon your fate, son. They are. The Ministry. Now, could you tell me what you saw? Was the perp here when you got here?"

James relaxed when he understood that both his fathers had already come to the right conclusion, which was that he had happened to stumble into the wrong place at the bloody wrong time and been accused of a crime he had not committed. He lifted his right hand and ran it through his matted, black hair. Sorrow was in his deep green eyes. "I don't know what happened to Helen," he said in a low, regretful voice. "I wish I could've helped her, but I came too late. She was already..." He fell silent and sought Harry's eyes, perhaps searching for some sort of sign that it was not his fault, that there was no blame in his arriving too late at the scene. "I thought she was dead, Dad. She was just lying there... I tried to wake her up, but she wouldn't stir. So I bent down to check whether she was breathing... I checked the wounds on her neck and face to make sure she wasn't still bleeding too much, but I wouldn't touch her legs or any of that. That would be incriminating and disgracing her, wouldn't it? Yeah, it would. I checked her stomach, though. She appeared to have been slashed with some sort of dagger... I don't know. Anyway, while I was preparing to rip my shirt into rags and use them as bandages, the door to the common room was opened – and that's all I remember."

It was difficult listening to his tale, because he was obviously hurting badly. Seeing that girl lying on the floor like that, possibly even dead... that was a trauma Harry did not wish to fall upon his children. Nobody should have to experience something like that.

Draco embraced James and stroked him lightly over his messy hair, so much like Harry's it was scary. "It's all right, kiddo. You did what you could, and that's what matters. You did good, and you are not to blame for this. You hear me?"

The boy nodded feebly.

That was all the conversation they had time for, because Dumbledore and the Ministry people returned, all very alarmed at seeing James animated again. Fudge stepped forward and cleared his throat with an awkward glance at Harry. "Well, I am sorry to interrupt, but we need to take your son in for questioning," he informed them uneasily. His employees stepped forward to take James. Harry wished he could have stopped them, but that would only have landed him in an interrogation himself. Reluctantly, Draco and he let go of James and watched as they began to take him away. When they were almost out of the door, Fudge turned back as if just remembering to mention something. "We'll be taking him to Azkaban first thing in the morning, Dumbledore, don't you worry."

Harry thought he was about to burst with wrath at those words. "Azkaban?!" he yelled. "You're taking him to Azkaban?! But you just said you only wanted him for questioning!"

Fudge squirmed uncomfortably. "Yes, well, that is what needs to be done with rapists and—"

"But my son is not a rapist! He is innocent! You can't just put an innocent boy in Azkaban – that place'll kill him!" he shouted hysterically, and he could feel Draco squeeze his hand painfully hard.

"Harry, I am awfully sorry, but such is the law—"

"I don't give a fuck about the law! He is thirteen years old! _Thirteen!_ Azkaban is no place for a child!"

"As I said, I am awfully sorry, but I have to think about the general view of the public, and—"

"The general view of the public?! So this is a matter of politics, is it? Is that what it was when you imprisoned Sirius, too? Was that too only a matter of politics? Is that what you do to keep your status as Minister for Magic – imprison innocent men for the sake of the bloody general view of the public?! I don't believe this! You can't do this to me, not again! You can't do this, for fuck's sake!"

Soon Harry would need to be Stunned himself, lest he kill the Minister right there and then just to be able to run away with James and see to it that he was put in a safe place where they would not find him. But Draco held him fast. Thank Merlin he had Draco, otherwise he probably would have landed himself in Azkaban, too, and much, much longer than James.

There was nothing else they could do but to watch as their oldest son was being led away by the law and suck the pride up. Despite Harry's efforts to stay around and plead to Dumbledore to help James out of his troubles somehow, Draco pulled at his collar and forced him to go back up to his office. None of the teachers had commented on Draco's being there, which Harry was remotely grateful for. Had they demanded that Draco leave he probably would have killed a few of them and landed himself in Azkaban anyway. Being away from the blonde now would be a bad idea, indeed. He was in no control of himself.

"Fuck them!" he exclaimed when they were back in his bedroom, and kicked the wall in frustration.

Draco immediately went to him and lovingly, but firmly, placed his hands on his hips. "There now, take it easy. I wanna kick and scream, too, but there's nothing we can do about it. Not yet, anyway. Let's just sit down and try to think of a way to help him instead. Who raped that girl, for instance? If we could find the person who really did it, they would have to let James go, right?"

His optimism offended Harry, but he said nothing. Instead he sat down on the foot of the bed and crossed his arms over his chest in defiance, pouting stubbornly.

A knock interrupted them, and they both turned in the direction of the bedroom door, certain to see another teacher disturbing their peace. But it was Timothy.

"I know what happened," he said hollowly.

"Oh yeah?" Harry said. "Then why didn't you do something about it?"

For some reason, Draco put a hand on Harry's shoulder. A scowl disfigured his beautiful, pale face. "Harry, that's not Timmy," he objected, and his voice sounded worried – alarmed.

Harry furrowed his brows. "No? Then who is he? Can't be Bond, can he?"

"No," Draco agreed. "It's Timothy, alright, but he's not in there. He's empty."

Harry understood what the blonde meant. The boy was not displaying any emotions whatsoever, but seemed to be completely empty and robotic. There was an odd glint in his feline, green eyes that was somewhat familiar... and utterly disturbing.

Before they knew it, the boy had sprung at Harry and pressed his slender, boyish hands around his neck. Rage burnt in his eyes now, and they seemed to house a hatred so strong and pure there should be no saving him. It made no sense. Why did he hate him? Why did he hate his own father? Had Harry done something in the future that pissed Timothy off? Was that it?

But then he remembered the blond boy's words the last time he had tried to strangle him to death: _What is she doing to me?_ Joz. She was doing this. It was not Timothy trying to kill him – it was _Joz_, trying to kill him through Timothy. She forced him to chanel her hatred. And this time it was greater than last time. The boy's hands tightened their grip around his throat, cutting off the air from his lungs. He tried to breathe, but could only muster a weird wheezing sound that scared him. There was no use; he was suffocating. Again.

Draco lashed out at the blond boy the minute he jumped on Harry, but this time his efforts were even more futile than last time. The boy was surprisingly strong, and Harry guessed it was Joz's superhuman strength channeled through him, just like the hatred and the despise. He lifted his hands in a vain attempt to bend the boy's fingers from his throat, but he was already getting dizzy and disoriented with lack of oxygen. Since Timothy shielded Harry's view he could not see Draco, but he knew that the blonde was furiously and desperately trying to prise Timothy off him. "Let go!" he whimpered, and judging by the desperation and the defeat in his voice it was much worse than Harry thought. Was he turning blue?

The world was spinning, spinning... Black spots danced at the edges of his vision, but he fought them persistently, intent on staying conscious at all cost. He could not faint, because if he did he would be as good as dead. And he did not want to die. Not now. Not in another seventy years, the least. He wanted more time with Draco. Sixteen years was nothing. Ironically, that was when he realised that Draco's demand was not so hard to accept after all. What was his job, anyway? Being so close to death, an oily blackness creeping up on him, he knew that he wanted to be with his family – nothing else. He did not care about his job. Nor did he care much for Dumbledore anymore. Which was funny in a way, considering that he had always regarded Dumbledore as some sort of role model and saviour. Now he was nothing.

He sensed that he did not have much time left. The pain in his chest was unbearable – excruciating. He needed air, needed oxygen – but not a single oxygen molecule would find its way into his lungs. Everything was dying away – the room was just a blur now, and hardly even that. He wanted to tell Draco that he loved him, but all that escaped him was that eerie wheezing again, and Draco meowled anxiously at the sound of it. "No!" he expelled, as if he knew exactly what Harry was trying to bring forth. He came at the boy more persistently and more desperately than before. "No, Harry, no! Don't you leave me now! Don't you fucking dare leave me, you hear? I need you, stay with me! Stay with me!"

A small part of Harry died in that moment, hearing the vulnerability in his voice so plain. If only he could have answered, then it might have been alright. But he could not. For the second time that night, he felt as though he was floating, but this time it was not because of any lovely, warm sensation of intimacy, but because he was about to leave his body. That's what it felt like; he was slowly leaving his body behind, floating away on a cold current of unseen air with oxygen not granted him. _I'm sorry, Draco,_ he thought. His eyelids were so heavy...

"_No!"_

He slipped away.

* * *

"No! No, no, no! You can't leave me!" Draco could not stop screaming, it was just so excruciatingly painful to watch his lover – his husband! – being strangled to death, he just wanted to stab the bloody lad for killing Harry. But he could not do that, because that lad was their son, and he did not mean to kill Harry, it was all Joz's doing. But when Harry stopped making that wheezing sound and his eyes rolled back in their sockets before coming shut, Draco could not take it anymore – it was soon too late! When he could not prise Timothy off Harry, he let go and pulled out his wand. Without thinking, he raised it in front of himself. "Gerotos Eccicentrus Domo!" he yelled at the top of his lungs, uttering a spell that he had long forgotten, but which had once been part of Charms class and extremely difficult to learn. It was a combination between the Stunning Spell and Expelliarmus, but much more powerful. The boy instantly lost his grip on Harry and fell to the floor, paralysed and unconscious.

When Timothy no longer held him up, Harry crumpled to the floor, his body limp and unmoving. Draco had hoped that he would wake up when the pressure was lifted from his throat, that he would draw a deep breath and sit up, panting, but nothing happened. He remained lying, face down on the floor. "No." Draco knelt beside him and collected him into his arms. "No!" He began to shake him. "Harry, no, don't leave me, Harry, please don't be dead!" Tears blurred his vision and made his eyes sting with warmth and moist; his throat became dry and compressed.

Pulse. Check for the pulse.

He hesitantly put two trembling fingers to the carotid artery in Harry's neck. Thu-thump. Yes, there was a pulse, but very weak and irregular. That's not a good sign, he thought anxiously and leant closer to check if Harry was breathing yet. No breath, hot nor cold, brushed against Draco's cheek.

"He's not breathing!" he cried to the silent room, hysteria rising from within. "He's not breathing! Help me! Someone, please, help me... anyone... please..."

Suddenly he lost all strength, and his entire body sagged as if someone had magicked away his bones, his head lolling strangely against his chest. It was too late. Four death curses had not been enough to kill him, but the hands of his next-to-youngest son and the fury of their daughter had done the job exceptionally. It seemed almost silly, come to think of it. So much for nothing.

He was not even sure if Timothy was alive, he might even have killed him with that spell earlier. The thought of losing both his husband and his son at the same time became too much, and he determinedly straightened up. No, he would not give up. "Jonas!" He did not know if The Other could hear him through time and space just as well as Timothy usually could, but he was willing to give it a shot. "Jonas, please!"

One second later, the American boy appeared a couple yards from them. Draco looked up at him with pleading red eyes. "He's not breathing," he whimpered, shaking with Harry's body in his arms.

Jonas frowned, apparently trying to grasp the situation. Then he spotted Timothy unconscious – or dead – on the floor, and dashed up to him, temporarily blinded by his love and fear of losing his soul mate. He knelt beside him to check his pulse, but Draco impatiently shouted at him in fury. "Not him, you idiot! Harry! Harry's not breathing, now help him for fuck's sake! My Harry's not breathing..."

Jonas turned and came immediately to their side, put his hands on Harry's chest. Meeting Draco's eyes with concern, he asked, "How long has he been like this?"

Draco's lower lip trembled when he replied. "I don't know. A minute. Two. Is it... is it too late?" He could hardly even get those words out, it was too painful to even consider the possibility that Harry was lost for ever, let alone accept the truth.

The expression on Jonas's face was like the worst of bad omens. Draco did not like it at all. "Then I guess the easiest thing would be to turn back his time a couple minutes," he concluded after a few seconds' inner deliberation.

"No," Draco swiftly protested and nodded towards Timothy. "Two minutes ago _he_ was strangling him."

Jonas jerked in shock. "What? Timothy was strangling Harry? Why on earth would he do that?"

"Because Joz told him to or something. It's not important! Just make my Harry good again, just make him good again... please..."

The boy nodded. "Five minutes, then." And without further ado, he used his time magic or whatever it was called to draw Harry's biological clock back five minutes in hopes of saving him. A bright white-golden light sprang from his hands for a fraction of a second and was gone again before Draco had time to fully register it. The moment after, Harry shot up from the floor, finally taking that breath that Draco had waited for for the past two minutes or so. "Harry!" he exclaimed, and threw himself around his neck.

He sat panting for a while before he could speak. "What... what happened?" But then he noticed that Timothy was lying in a heap on the floor. "He tried to kill me again, didn't he?"

"Again?" Jonas echoed. He was now sitting by Timothy's side, busy trying to wake him up and undo whatever damage Draco's spell had done. "You mean he's done this before?"

There was no time for Harry and Draco to explain, for Timothy woke up and claimed their attention. He sat up with a determined and very angry expression on his face. Draco was almost afraid that he was still under Joz's spell. He fixed his eyes on his fathers'. "I can't let her go on like this, for sooner or later I _will_ kill you and every one else she deems unworthy of life," he said in a low and stern voice. "I am sorry, but I have to kill her. There is no other way. I will do it painlessly and quickly – she won't feel a thing. No matter what you say or do, I won't change my mind. You can't stop me." He rose to his feet and brushed some dust off his robes.

"We understand that," Draco assured him darkly. "And it doesn't matter anymore. She was never human... I made her something else when I took that potion. I know it wasn't my fault, but... Anyway, it doesn't matter, because Harry and I are expecting another child." He turned to meet Harry's eyes. "A daughter. I had them check this time. I hope you didn't mind."

Harry could not find anything to say; his mouth just opened and closed like that of a fish. He had known nothing of the pregnancy, and Draco had waited for the right opportunity to tell him. But instead of hearing his opinion in the matter, Timothy spoke. "That is impossible. You were supposed to be in an accident and come out of it infertile..."

_(To be continued...)_

"Kodoku ni dakareta, boku wo koroshite"

* * *

**_Now we're half-way through the "Rape" suite... and now you all know why I gave it that title... at least that's part of the reason, and you'll understand the rest of it a little later. Part six of "Rape", the final part of this suite, is still unfinished; that is the chapter that I was working on some two-three years ago when I lost my inspiration to write. Originally it was because I became ill - I got some sort of virus on the balance organs - and ultimately became deeply depressed because the illness isolated me from the outer world. And when I was recovering from my depression I met my ex boyfriend, the only boyfriend I have ever had, and thought that my life would finally take a turning point for the better. But then instead I got stuck in an abusive relationship... so I didn't get a chance to get my inspiration back until roughly two-three months ago, when I finally left him after two whole years. Now I am slowly coming back to myself and am once again discovering the true joy of writing! :) I'm back, baby, yeah!! XD So once I have published the fifth part of "Rape" I will continue on the sixth part and finish one and for all!!_**

**_But I'll tell you this... "Rape" is not the end to this story. My original plan was to write two more "mini-series", or whatever, following "Rape", and I intend to stick to that plan. ;) Who knows?? I might even continue beyond that... because this is a story that I truly love, and I may find it extremely difficult to leave the characters. But, we'll see._**

**_See ya all in the next chappie! ;)  
Love, Piper_**


	53. Rape 4: Imprisonment

**Rating:** PG-17/R

**Pairing:** H/D

**Disclaimer:** All the characters belong to J.K.Rowling, except for my creations: Piper, Timothy, James, Jonas, Blaise Malfoy, Jonathan Kelly, Sarah, Joz, and the Sakanoues.

**Disclaimer II:** The nickname "Dracums" belongs to Golden.

**A/N:** I have now officially passed three hundred pages with this story, and I can't believe it myself. This is a bloody novel, for crying out loud! And it is not over yet...

* * *

**Rape, part four  
Imprisonment**

Harry did not know how to react to it all. Too much was happening at once, and he could not fully grasp it. Timothy had obviously channeled Joz's rage again and been real close to strangling him to death this time, and afraid for his life Draco had called Jonas, whom performed some sort of time magic and miraculously brought him back to life. Then Draco dropped _this_ bomb. And as if that was not enough, Timothy claimed that it was impossible for them to have more children because Draco was supposed to have an accident that made him barren.

To top that off, James was probably being taken to Azkaban in this very minute.

"So... does that mean you're pregnant again?" he asked the blonde, whom was squirming nervously on the edge of the bed.

"Yes." He would not meet Harry's eyes. Oddly enough, his shrunken posture made him look small and ashamed. As if he believed himself to have done something stupidly wrong.

Harry sighed and rubbed his exhausted eyes for a moment. "And when did you plan to tell me this?" he inquired, perfectly aware that he sounded angry and was probably only making things worse between them. Draco had (however indirectly) just saved his life – he should be thankful. But none of the revelations, realisations, and epiphanies he'd had during his near-to-death experience were great enough to erase his disappointment.

"I don't know." The blonde sounded so small and vulnerable he wanted to hug him.

"Okay... how long?"

"What?"

"How far along are you?"

"Thirteen weeks."

"Thirteen weeks and you didn't tell me?! That means you're past the abortion stage and you've already made the decision to keep it for both of us. You didn't think that maybe I would like to have a part in that decision, Draco?"

"I know you would, Harry. I'm sorry. I just didn't know how to tell you..."

Harry sat down beside the blonde and took him in his arms. Draco immediately pressed closer to him and buried his face in Harry's robes. "It's all right," Harry assured him soothingly. "I'm not mad at you. I'm just exhausted from everything that's happened tonight. But it surprises me that you felt you couldn't talk to me about this. Have I really been that bad a husband lately that you can't even talk to me about yourself anymore?"

Draco patted his chest. "No, it's not that. Yeah, you've been kind of busy and absent-minded, but not as much as you used to be. It's just... I wasn't even sure myself that I'd keep it, and I didn't want to get your hopes up in case..."

Harry silenced him by putting a finger over his lips. He did not need to say it. A daughter. A daughter to make up for Joz? That must have been what Draco thought when he found out, hence his hesitancy about keeping the baby. If they would only see this new daughter as a substitute for what Joz might have been... then how would they be able to love her for who she was? Harry could more than well understand his ambivalence in this question.

Before them, Timothy sank down into a chair, suddenly too weak to stand. He looked as if he had just seen a ghost. "It is not possible..." he was whispering to himself, slowly shaking his head.

Jonas knelt beside him and put one hand on his knee, using his other hand to gently stroke the side of his pale face. "Honey, are you all right?" he asked with concern.

For some reason Harry felt like hurling when Jonas called his son 'honey'. Especially when he thought about the 'real' Timothy of this time only being five years old...

Timothy did not look at him, but at least he registered his words. "I'm fine, babe, I'm good."

But he did not look fine. He was pale and dazed, weak.

"What did you mean, 'It's not possible'?" Harry asked when his curiosity did not allow him to shut up anymore.

For a while, the blond boy would not answer. But then he said, "The accident." That seemed to be all he planned to say, and the hollowness and despair in his voice put a scowl on Harry's face. Just when he was about to question his son about this thin explanation and the thoughtless bluntness of his semi-accusation, the boy spoke anew, this time with his stunningly green eyes directed upon Draco. "You were supposed to be in an accident two months ago. That never happened?" he demanded with a fierceness that chilled Harry to the bone. He wondered if Joz was indirectly threatening _Draco's_ life now?

The blonde blinked. "Accident? No. I spilt coffee all over myself one morning, but that's all."

"Coffee?" Harry echoed disapprovingly.

"Before I found out I was pregnant," Draco assured him.

Timothy snorted and defiantly crossed his arms over his chest. "How touching that you two can argue about something as trivial as that when there are obviously more important things going on," he admonished irritably. The green of his eyes seemed to pierce through them, and they shivered simultaneously. They knew of his powers, and neither of them would want to see them directed at one of them. "So, basically, what you're saying is you never took Harry's broom and tried to fly to him in the middle of the night in the middle of a thunderstorm and fell off halfway?"

Draco raised both eyebrows in bafflement. "What? No! Do you think I'm stupid?" he accused incredulously. Then he pointed his finger at the boy. "And don't answer that!"

Timothy flinched as if he had been hit over the head. "No?" he breathed in a weak whisper. "Then… then I'm really doing it, aren't I? I'm really changing the past!"

For some reason, that exclamation made Harry think of death and decay.

* * *

James glared back at the Auror that had just walked into the barren interrogation room with angry green eyes. He wished he'd had his wand, then that bloody Ministry bastard would not have smirked so broadly. Since Fudge and his underlings had taken him away from Hogwarts, he had been treated like less than a Troll, and if he ever managed to get himself out of this mess he would sure as Hell see to it that they paid for it!

The interrogator leant back in his chair, and it squeaked under his immense weight. His arms were defiantly and self-righteously crossed over his bulky chest. "So, tell me, Mr Potter, what were you doing with Helen Abbott?" he asked in a dry, smug voice.

James's eyes narrowed. "It's Potter-Malfoy," he corrected the bastard.

The Auror raised an eyebrow in mock astonishment. "Oh, is it really? My bad. Mr Potter-_Malfoy_, what did you do to Helen Abbott?"

James squirmed in his seat. He had a feeling it did not matter what he replied; he would still be found guilty and convicted to at least ten years in Azkaban. "Nothing," he muttered almost inaudibly.

The Auror leant in a bit closer to the table. "Sorry? What was that?"

_You like torturing your suspects, don't you?_ James thought glumly, but said nothing of it. It would not be worth it. "Nothing," he repeated, louder this time. He lowered his eyes and stared down at the table. Then he realised that that would be perceived as a sign of guilt in that pig's eyes and immediately lifted his gaze again.

"Nothing, eh?" the pig echoed. He was really getting on James's nerves, that one. "Then how come you were kneeling by that girl, all covered in her blood, trying your best to cave her chest in?"

"I wasn't trying to cave her chest in!" James objected hotly, almost lashing out at him over the table. "I was trying to tend to her wounds and make sure she was still alive and breathin'!"

The pig seemed utterly pleased at his outburst, as if that alone proved his guilt. "I see… Tell me, Mr Potter-_Malfoy_, are you aware that your DNA was found all over the girl, as well?"

"If that's the case, then probably because I tried to revive her when I thought she was dead," James muttered sourly. Then he lost his patience and kicked at the table leg. "Why are you even questioning me? You seem to have made up your mind already," he stated as an attempt to find out if indeed the Ministry _had_ already decided upon his fate.

"Because it's necessary since your father is very famous amongst witches and wizards around the world," the pig informed him importantly. "They would not be satisfied if the Ministry hadn't taken the time to consider your 'story'."

James started. He had not expected the Auror to be so open about it. So they had practically convicted him already? That was not fair! And this interrogation was taking place merely because he happened to be Harry Potter's son. How touching. But he kept his face straight, intent on hiding his fear from this awful man. "So there will probably be a mock investigation launched, as well?" he stated glumly.

"You are correct, boy, ten points for Slytherin!" the pig said and laughed scornfully.

James hated him. He knew nothing of this man, but he hated him. To sustain him through that night of exhausting – and completely unnecessary – interrogations, he imagined thousands of ways he could have killed this pig had he only had access to his wand and his books on the Dark Arts.

He did not get any sleep that night.

* * *

The last residues of Joz's influence on Timothy wore off a few minutes later, and he went back to being his usual pleasant, but gloomy, self. Now only determination shone in his eyes, and it was not hard to imagine what kind of decision he had made. "Well, what are we doing here?" he suddenly asked with a conspiratorial smile on his lips, and winked at his parents.

They both blinked at him.

"Excuse me?" Draco said. "You don't know what you're doing here all of a sudden?"

Jonas looked as puzzled.

Timothy laughed. "No, no, that's not what I meant," he assured them, and they could both exhale with relief. He had not gone mad from Joz's straining interventions. "I meant, what's going on here? Draco isn't supposed to visit you at Hogwarts, right? Is there some kind of celebration going on…?" He was now clearly indicating the rose petals on the bed and the now burnt-out candles carefully set on every piece of furniture around the room.

Harry lowered his gaze and cleared his throat uncomfortably. "There was. But it was cut short." He met Draco's grey eyes. Then he turned to face Timothy anew. "James has just been taken away by the Ministry."

That piece of information seemed to shock the blond boy, not to mention confuse him. Wrinkles and creases once more found refuge on his young forehead, and all his previous merriment seemed to fade from his face in a matter of seconds. "What do you mean?"

Draco sat on the edge of the bed, silently hugging himself and unconsciously stroking his belly every thirty seconds, while Harry recounted what they had witnessed in the Slytherin common room. To learn about the poor raped girl and how James had come to be wrongfully accused of the crime simply because he had an unusual hobby and too much time on his hands further troubled and confused their blond son. When Harry finally fell silent almost twenty minutes later, he shook his head slowly, but it was impossible to read the emotions hidden behind his suddenly cold eyes. "I believe him," he said after many minutes' silence.

Harry surprised himself by starting. "You do?" All along, he had thought that he'd been certain that Timothy would say just that, but now he found that he had been expecting the boy to convict James as the Ministry already had. Then something hit him. He sprang forward and grabbed the boy's hands with his. "Do you know who did it? You're a Time Manipulator, right? You ought to know these things."

The boy simply shook his head.

Hope faded from Harry's face. "But you're from the future, you should know—"

"No," he said sadly. "I do not know who raped that girl, because that never happened in my future that you speak of. Just like Draco's accident never happened here."

Harry blinked. He was suddenly becoming angry with the boy. He shook him. "But how is that possible? This is your past, and you're from our future! There must be a connection!"

Timothy met his eyes, not thwarted by his harsh tone. Then he sighed and lowered his gaze in defeat. "It's not that easy, Harry," he protested, "and it would take me way too long to explain it to you. Maybe someday you will understand." He looked up again. "I am sure you will. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have other business to tend to." He left without another word.

Jonas shrugged and went after him.

Draco decided to spend the night. He did not want to be alone, and neither did Harry. They held each other, silently staring up into the ceiling, neither of them able to sleep for the entire night. All they could do was think about their son, possibly already imprisoned in Azkaban, and at such a tender age. Harry did not want to think about it, but he did not know how to divert his thoughts either.

At seven in the morning, somebody knocked on the door to his office. He went up and pulled his dressing gown on and went to the door. He had expected a student, or maybe Professor Flitwick whom fancied an early talk with Harry before strolling down to breakfast. But to his great bafflement it was Snape. The last person Harry wished to see on such a morning.

"What do you want?" he said unpleasantly.

Snape raised one eyebrow in mock shock. "There, there, Potter… There's really no need to put your guard up so fiercely towards me," he drawled scornfully, and then leant in closer to whisper something conspiratorially in Harry's ear. "I am not the enemy here, you know."

Harry refused to let him provoke him and ignored the mockery and the scorn. "What do you want?" he repeated impatiently. He heard rustling behind himself and figured that Draco had gone up to see what was going on.

Snape peered in over Harry's shoulder, and a self-satisfied expression very briefly crossed his sallow face. Then he turned his attention back to Harry, whom was still studying him with knitted eyebrows and wrinkled nose. "I am sorry to say this, Potter, but the Headmaster has decided to suspend you from your duties for the duration of the investigation," he informed in a formal voice.

"What investigation?" Harry queried and completely missed the first half of the sentence.

This time Snape actually managed to look genuinely surprised. Good for him. "You mean you weren't informed? That is strange. Strange indeed." He shifted his feet. "The Minister for Magic has launched an immensely elaborate investigation that will determine whether your son James is guilty of the rape on Helen Abbott or not, and Dumbledore decided that it is best if you do not teach here during that time. People might get the wrong idea."

Harry slammed the door in his face without the least bit of preceding warning. Then he stalked into his office and threw the dressing gown aside in pure wrath. "That backstabbing bastard!" he exclaimed in fury, and violently pulled his robes towards him. "That is _it_! I am resigning from the Order for the final time! I want no part in his devious schemes anymore, that's for sure!"

Draco came after him and helped him to dress. "You're doing the right thing," he told him. "This is best for everyone. He's been using you for years for his own purposes – whatever they might be. And you need to think of your family, what with this new baby and James's arrest and everything…"

Harry stopped abruptly in the middle of a movement and almost knocked Draco over. "Yeah, that's it!" he yelled triumphantly, a broad smile spreading on his lips.

The blonde frowned in lack of understanding. "That's what?" he wondered in bewilderment.

Harry swirled around to meet his eyes. "If I'm suspended from Hogwarts, that means I can use all my time and all my energy to find proof of James's innocence – and you can do it with me!" he said enthusiastically. He pulled the blonde into his arms and kissed him passionately. "You and I can be detectives together. What do you say?"

Draco chuckled obscenely. "Sounds sexy. Will we have to wear trenchcoats?"

"Absolutely!" Harry conceded.

"Then I'm all for it," Draco said, and pressed his lips to Harry's.

They went home shortly after dressing, because neither of them could stand Hogwarts and its inhabitants anymore. All Harry's colleagues regarded him with a reserved suspicion that indicated that they believed him to somehow be a part of James's supposed crime, and the students practically screamed and ran when they saw him. Never before had he been rewarded _that_ reaction.

Hardly an hour after their returning home, an owl arrived with news that evoked mixed feelings in them both. Joz was dead. The Healers that cared for her at St Mungo's had found her dead when they had brought her breakfast at the usual time and concluded that she had died quietly in her sleep since there were no signs of foul play or disease.

Almost instantly thereafter, another owl arrived with more bad news.

James had disappeared from his cell in Azkaban.

_(To be continued…)_

"Kodoku ni dakareta, boku o koroshite"

* * *

**_This chapter is a bit shorter than what they usually are... but I think the twist in the end makes up for it, ne? :) Read & Review, please! I always treasure your opinions, whatever they may be! ;)  
Love, Piper_**


	54. Rape 5: Tom's Reason

**Rating:** R/non-con and OOC

**Pairing:** H/D

**Disclaimer:** All the characters belong to J.K. Rowling, except for my creations Piper, Jonathan Kelly, Timothy, Jonas, Sarah Kelly-Weasley, James/Tom, Blaise Malfoy, and the Sakanoues.

**Disclaimer II:** The nickname "Dracums" belongs to Golden. Thanks for letting me borrow it, love. ;)

**A/N:** Er, hrm, some of you might have thought Rape 4 was a bit short, remember? Well, Rape 5 makes up for that. Doubly. Many answers will now be provided, my friends. ;) Even a few old ones. Like for example, Why exactly did Tom go back in time only to provoke Harry into killing him? And why did he take his time? Why was he so subtle? You will soon find out, hehe.

This chapter is dedicated to my dear friend Malin.  
Thank you for the idea about the strawberries. ;)

* * *

**Rape, part five  
Tom's Reason**

It was always tricky to summon their son – he only seemed to come when he felt like it, which was extremely frustrating considering the urgency of each matter they needed to consult him about. This time, though, they found no trouble summoning him at all; Timothy arrived in a peach-scented pink cloud of glittering smoke that even gave Piper a run for her money, a huge grin on his face and a set of new deep-green velvet robes with silver embroideries on sleeves and collar on his slim, pale Draco-resembling body. When he saw their stunned looks of disbelief, he just laughed out loud and shook his head at the sight. "There, there," he said in an almost Snape-like manner that totally grossed Harry out, "don't look so startled. I am _free_! Free at last! I have never felt this good in my entire life!" And he laughed anew.

Harry felt an uncertain smile twitch the right corner of his mouth. "Re-really...? That's good, I s'ppose..."

"Good?!" Timothy echoed. "It's _brilliant_!"

"I feel it, too," a small voice said next to Harry, and when he looked down he found six-year-old Timmy there, and for the first time there was no scowl on his knowing face. He looked like any other normal little boy, his face slightly flustered with the excitement of play and with a new hunger for adventure more than apparent in his mysterious green eyes. It was wonderful to see him as carefree as a child ought to be, and not troubled with the sorrows of the world that he had been born to protect. No scars of the miseries that he had witnessed during his time travels were visible in his features now; he indeed looked happy and harmonious, just like his older, future self.

He patted the top of the boy's head, tears suddenly brimming in his eyes. "I am glad to hear that, Timmy," he said with honesty. But then he turned to the older Timothy with a grave expression. "You probably understand that Draco and I need to talk to you about Joz," he said in a conversational tone of voice, but there was nonetheless a trace of pain and loss in his words. Regardless of what their daughter had done to their son – and regardless of what she was destined to do to their family in the future – he still loved her. She was his daughter.

Timothy nodded ceremoniously.

Harry showed him to a moderately furnitured room on the second floor, a room they scarcely used anymore and in which they could be alone and undisturbed during their talk. Since Piper believed the room to be unused it was of no interest to her, and she was most unlikely to show up when there was no chance whatsoever of stepping in on a juicy scene. And her interruptions and interventions were the ones Draco despised the most. Harry did not wish to upset him any more than all the bad news already had. So they sat down in the old armchairs that stood at the far end of the room, by the only window, with the drapes closed and the only light coming from an old lamp standing on the small coffee table between them. Its dim glow gave the room a cosy, yet ghastly air that perfectly suited the topics they were about to discuss.

Draco seemed to have lost some of his will to live lately, for he did not care as much for his appearance anymore. That day he had not even bothered to fix his hair, but merely splashed some cold water on it in the morning. Nor had he cared for what he was wearing; a set of old, worn and torn black robes that made it perfectly clear that he was mourning. He was not wearing any shoes, and there were holes in his socks. His skin looked oddly grey, as if he was recovering from a serious disease. Dark rings under his eyes betrayed the fact that he had not got much sleep the previous two nights.

Harry felt sorry for him, and he wanted to make him feel better, but he did not feel all too good himself so it seemed rather stupid to try to cheer somebody else up at the moment.

Timothy studied them with concern in his eyes for a few quiet moments before deciding that it was best he speak. "I only did what I had to do," he told them solemnly, but there was a sort of sadness in his voice now, too.

Harry glanced up at him. "So you admit that it was you, then?"

It had been 25 hours since they received the owl with the message telling them that Joz was dead. Since then, Harry and Draco had discussed their options concerning James's disappearance and what they could do to help him, and neither of them had been able to get any rest. They were both grieving Joz, but at the same time they needed to be strong for the rest of their family – James in particular. It was just so hard...

"Yes," Timothy said boldly, and stuck out his chin in a true Malfoy spirit. "I killed her, I'm not trying to deny that. It needed to be done lest I'd be her slave for the rest of my life. She was growing stronger, much more stronger than I could have imagined. Had she been allowed to grow at that rate, she would have been ten times as worse at the age of 21 than she originally was. I don't know what they fed her at St Mungo's, but if it was meant to keep her in check it definitely had the opposite effect." He looked them over with grave eyes. "She would have used me to destroy the entire world, for she hated all wizards and witches that stood in her way. She wanted to rule the world, and I couldn't let her."

"How do you know all this?" Draco demanded. To Harry's surprise he sounded as if he was considering to exclude Timothy from their lives from now on.

The blond boy met his eyes without the slightest trace of remorse. "I read her mind."

"Didn't know that was part of your special powers."

"It isn't, I just happen to be a bloody good Legilimens."

"You don't say."

"Yeah, I am."

Harry looked from his son to his husband. There seemed to be some sort of silent war going on between them, and he had no idea who was winning. He just hoped they could all come out of these trials as friends – family. He would hate for them to lose contact with the older Timothy since he was so valuable to them in so many ways. And besides... if he had indeed gone back in time all those times to somehow change some gruesome event that would eventually get Draco killed and leave Harry all alone... then Harry definitely wanted him to continue. He did not want Draco to die, obviously, not until they were really, really old and it was time for them to go. Not at thirty-something. It was too soon.

"Look, I made it quick and painless. Stopped her time with a flick of my wrist, 's all. She just fell asleep. I am sorry I killed your daughter – twice – but it had to be done. It really did, Draco. Compared to her, Pywercaseley is as dangerous and blood-thirsty as a butterfly."

He was probably right.

So why did not Draco believe him?

* * *

"Look – it's in the newspaper," Harry said, a somewhat puzzled note in his voice.

Draco snatched the Prophet out of his hands. "Let me see." He swiftly skimmed the article about James's escape from Azkaban. The Ministry ensured all that they had the situation under control, and that they would soon have young Potter-Malfoy in custody again. Because of the "break-out", both the Ministry and the Prophet had come to the conclusion that James was indeed guilty of the rape on Helen Abbott, daughter of their old school mate Hannah Abbott, apparently, and the fact that he had managed to break out of Azkaban at such a tender age was (to them) a clear sign that he knew some serious Dark Arts.

Draco angrily threw the paper aside. "Those bloody dim-wits! He didn't breakt out of his own free will – he didn't have a bloody choice!"

Harry knew exactly what he meant, so he put a reassuring hand on the blonde's shoulder. "The Ministry doesn't know that James can transport himself through time when he hiccoughs," he objected mildly, "let alone that he can't control his hiccoughs."

Draco wrenched free of him. "He's no more monster than they are! How _dare_ they write this dung in their filthy magazine?! I will fucking have them answer to me about this..." He began to storm out of the room, but Harry followed him and stopped him before he could use the parlour fire to travel to the Ministry or the Prophet office or wherever he had been about to go. "No!" he said firmly. "You can't go there, Dracums, you'll only make it worse! It's not worth it. Let them search the world for James if they want to – they won't find him anyway. Do you remember when he was little and went to the Dark Plane? He _consciously_ chose to go to the Dark Plane when he hiccoughed, remember? That means he has at least a bit of control over this strange power of his, so he will probably be hiding somewhere in time where they can't find him. Just relax, Dracums, it'll be all right. He's safe from them, believe me. We don't have to worry just now. Look, I'm going to go to St Mungo's and see if I can have a chat with the victim. You stay here, all right? Do not leave the Manor – you're pregnant and we really don't need to get you into trouble just now. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

The blonde muttered incomprehensively. Then he shrugged and stalked off, sulking.

Harry sighed, and Disapparated.

St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries was uncannily quiet when Harry arrived, and he almost expected to find every single Healer and patient dead. A small fear was itching in the back of his mind; What if Timothy really _had_ gone mad from all the times Joz had used him to channel her fury and do her dark deeds? What if he had not only killed Joz, but everyone at the entire hospital... His fear was quenched rather quickly, though, when a couple of female Healers emerged from a room, quietly debating with each other. They fell silent when they spotted him twenty feet further down the corridor and swiftly turned around as if fleeing from him.

Sighing with resignation, Harry walked over to the room where Helen Abbott was lying in absolute silence, her eyes staring blankly up into the ceiling without seeing it. The moment he saw her he knew there was no use trying to talk to her; she was still far off in some inner world of hers. She looked so small, so vulnerable... He felt a need to protect her. Now that he had lost yet another child – yes, he still felt as if Tom had been a separate person, just as much his son as James was – he knew how precious and brittle life was, and he wished for this girl never to have to go through what he had endured. So many losses... He wished for her to wake up from her catatonia and lead a quiet, happy life together with people that loved her.

He returned to the Manor with a new sadness, but also with a helplessness that was slowly eating away at him from inside. What were they supposed to do? What _the Hell _were they supposed to do?! They could do nothing at all to help James with the victim still unreachable and Harry banned from Hogwarts... and with the Ministry tampering with all the evidence.

"Draco..." he called, rubbing his temples as he was starting to get a nasty headache, and walked up the stairs towards their bedroom. He needed to change into more comfortable clothes and lie down for a bit. "Draco, could you bring me some Headache Killer Potion, please?" he added as he reached the third floor and started towards the open bedroom door.  
The blonde appeared in the doorway when he was rummaging through his wardrobe for something loose and soft. Harry turned around and saw that he carried with him a goblet of steaming potion in one hand and a bowl of strawberries in the other. He put the goblet on the desk. "Here you go, gorgeous," he said, and threw a berry into his mouth. He looked much more vibrant and lively than he had just an hour ago, and Harry was glad to see that he was smiling jubilantly as he munched on the red berries. Then he gave the raven-haired man a quizzical look. "Want one?"

Harry shook his head. "No thanks, I think I'll just have this," he said, and swept the potion in three great gulps.

Suddenly he felt strong arms close around him and the blonde's chin resting on his shoulder. What was weirder was, he thought he actually heard him purr like a cat...

"Er, Dracums...?"

The blonde kissed his shoulder gently, seductively. "Mmmm, I love your body, Harry... it's so masculine..."

"You know, I kind of have a headache..."

" 'Kind of' won't get you anywhere," the blonde chuckled, and tightened his grip on his waist. He gasped involuntarily when teeth closed around his earlobe and the tip of Draco's tongue licked away at his neck. The blonde chuckled obscenely again. He moved his left hand up under the shirt that Harry had just put on while unbuttoning Harry's trousers with his right. All the time he kept kissing and licking Harry's neckline while Harry unconsciously leant back against him and cocked his head to the side to allow more access to the areas the blonde was assaulting. "I wanna make love to you," he whispered in the raven-haired man's ear, nibbling at his earlobe again.

Harry gave a trembling gasp, slowly succumbing to the blonde's hot touch on his prickling skin. His trousers open, the blonde went about unbuttoning the shirt; it fell to the floor less than fifteen seconds later. He played with Harry's nipples a while, Harry moaning and pleading for him to continue, leaning his head back with his mouth open in a silent plea.

Draco dug his way into Harry's trousers and muttered wordlessly with contempt when he discovered that he was not wearing any underwear as usual, and with a determination that totally prevented any further objections from Harry's side, he took a firm grip on his manhood and immediately began to stroke him.

Harry cried out involuntarily, his chest heaving up and down at a desperate break-neck rate. His heartbeats accelerated, his muscles stiffened. He could not help himself...

The blonde stroked him with ferocity, grunting low in his throat as Harry began to thrust into his hand.

He put a finger inside the raven-haired man's open mouth, and he hungrily sucked on it.

Then suddenly, he stopped. Withdrew his hand.

Harry whined in protest and disappointment. He had been so close...

But it soon became apparent that Draco merely wanted to be a part of the fun rather than settle with being the one causing it. He muttered a simple spell that discarded the rest of Harry's clothes and then did the same to himself, then he ruthlessly pushed him down onto the bed.

He glared up at him. "Hurry."

The blonde laughed and placed himself on top of him. With his lips to Harry's, he murmured, "Don't worry. I'll be instant and thorough."

And thorough he was. He made Harry scream and shout and thrash and buck with seemingly no effort at all, and he himself seemed insatiable! It was as if he could go on for ever and it never seemed to be enough to quench his sexual lust. He just came at the raven-haired man again and again and again... It was amazing that someone could get wood so often and so easily, even after three hours of non-stop love-making!

At least Harry was exhausted...

Unfortunately, Draco was not. For the tenth time or so, he touched Harry in a way that made it impossible to miss his innermost intentions. He sighed, getting tired with the blonde already. "What has gotten into you?!" he exclaimed, beside himself.

The blonde laughed. He bore down on Harry's lips anew. "Love. Pregnancy. Strawberries."

The strawberries.

Strawberries contained loads of zinc!

Blimey...

"Er... how many did you have?" he asked awkwardly.

The blonde seemed to think back. "Umm... I don't know, maybe three bowls?"

"_Three bowls_?!" Harry echoed in fright. "But they probably hold about two hundred each! The least!"

Draco shrugged. "Yeah, so?"

_I'm gonna be KILLED!_ Harry thought in horror. _With all those strawberries – all that zinc in his system – he is bound to continue for days in a row – there will be no satisfying him! Oh, man, I am SO dead... he's gonna fuck me to death. Literally!_

He hastily scrambled out of bed, magicked his clothes back on, and ran out into the hallway. He heard the blonde calling quizzically after him, but he ignored him. Pregnancy combined with zinc... he had to hide!

He spent two pleasantly quiet hours in the parlour together with the children, happily aware that Blaise would live past his fifth birthday now that Joz was dead, and there was no sign of Draco. Later, when he went out into the kitchen to fix himself a snack, however, the blonde surprised him by jumping him from behind and once again succeeded to seduce him by touching a few sensitive places... He was equally ambushed outside the library, and coming out of the first floor bathroom (swiftly being pushed back inside), and down by the lake... Harry thanked Merlin that none of the kids had walked in on them. (And that Piper had not...)

But when the evening came, he had had enough. Afraid that the blonde would try to coerce him into sleeping with him again, he had resorted to sit in the parlour with Piper, whom was knitting a sweater for Natsumi by hand. He was sitting on the arm of one of the couches, watching her hands as if transfixed. After a while he became aware that his mouth was hanging open and that he was drooling a little. He swiftly wiped his chin on the sleeve of his shirt.

Stealthy footsteps behind him...

He spun around, trying to escape, but it was too late; the blonde's arms were already around him in a deadly grip. "Not again!" If he tried to wrench free he would probably lose a limb or two, and he was not prepared to make that sacrifice. He remembered all too well the pain of re-growing all the bones in his right arm after an unfortunate encounter with the quack Lockhart, so he figured that it must be excruciatingly painful re-growing an entire limb. (Or could you just re-attach it to the body?) Harry did not know, and he was _not _prepared to find out.

"Hawwwyyyyyy..." The blonde was drooling worse than him.

"Gerroffme!" he yelled and tried to brush him off.

"Oh, but why? I want you and I know you want me too..."

Piper looked up from her knitting, and Harry swore he could see her eyes swell up to thrice their original size as if she had used a non-verbal Engorgement Charm on herself. She cocked her head. Soon she would begin to drool, too.

That was something he did not need to see.

"No, I don't want you, I've had enough of you already, now let go!"

"But Harry... I have needs, and I need _you_ to satisfy them..."

"I've already done that twenty times today!"

"_Twenty times_?" Piper exclaimed and looked as if she had missed something incredible.

Harry ignored her. He coldly pushed Draco away, but he bounced back as quickly. To his great embarrassment he actually began to plead and whimper. "Oooh, please, Dracums... not again... just leave me alone... go jerk off or something, you claim to do that all the time so why not now?"

"Because that's no _fun_..." He started to lick Harry's ear, and Piper sniggered approvingly.

"The strawberries, eh?" she stated knowingly. "I warned him he might be like this, but did he listen?" She shook her head in mock resignation.

Harry stared at her in shock. "You _knew_ about the strawberries and you didn't warn me?!" he accused.

"Of course I didn't warn you, I would have missed all this fun entertainment! Who do you take me for?"

Draco kissed him on the neck.

Harry directed his wand at him and said, "Stupefy."

The blonde fell down rigid and did not move.

Piper blinked at him sheepishly for a couple seconds, then she shook the bafflement out of her body and turned to face Harry again. "That was unnecessary," she pointed out.

Harry shrugged. "He was in the way. Now, tell me, where the Hell did he get all those strawberries from?" He had a feeling he already knew the answer.

"I got them for'im after he saw me eat some earlier today," she said simply. "He said it looked so delicious he wanted some for himself. I didn't think it'd be that bad if I gave him some..."

"Some, no! But _three bloody bowlfuls_?! Are you out of your friggin' mind?!"

"Not really, no. But he just kept asking me for more – you know, pregnancy binge – and so I gave him more. But I warned him about eating too much zinc... Didn't listen, though, and how surprising is that? Never listens to a word I'm saying..."

"And how surprising is _that_?!" Harry cut in incredulously. "How the bloody fuck did you get him that many strawberries, anyway?" Immediately after asking that question, he regretted it, because Piper raised her wand and muttered, "Accio strawberries!", as a demonstration, and next thing he knew, their coffee table was loaded with fresh strawberries. Harry tried to tell her to stop in vain – "_No!_ Don't do it again! No mooooore!" – but the strawberries just kept coming, one after the other, and the pile on the coffee table grew and grew and grew and grew and...

It was too much for him to take. Too much.

And when he fainted, the Stunning Spell came undone and Draco woke to a mountain of strawberries...

* * *

Timothy paid them another visit three days later, and for once he actually had good news. Well, sort of anyway... And what was better was, the effect that the strawberries had had on Draco had finally worn off completely and Harry was safe from his attacks. The blond boy was beaming when he announced that he had found James. "He's in the Dark Plane," he told them solemnly, "and he is quite fine. I am not surprised he sought solace there when the Ministry had him imprisoned... I know that the Dark Plane is no good place for a boy his age, but at least we can now conclude that he is definitely out of reach to the Ministry, and that is a good thing indeed."

"That it is," Harry agreed generously, but his intestines were twisting with anxiety.

"Er, has he tried to contact V-V-V... He Who Must Not Be Named?" Draco asked worriedly, evidently thinking along the same lines as Harry.

"I'm afraid I can't say for sure whether he has or not," Timothy apologised. "I just received notice from Bond saying that James has turned up in the Dark Plane and that he will not be persuaded to return. If he only stays for a short time there will be no risk of acute disturbance to the flow of time, so I suggest that you get your arses working on proving his innocence ASAP, please. I would suggest you confront your ghosts..." he finished, and winked knowingly at Harry before he disapeared.

They blinked sheepishly. Confront their ghosts...?

And then suddenly it hit Harry. He knew what they could do. What they _had_ to do. "Tom..."

Draco looked at him with knitted brows. "What? Tom? Why are you bringing _him_ up all of a sudden?" he wondered in lack of understanding and suspicion.

Harry rose from his seat and eagerly tugged at the blonde's arm. "Because I know how we can ask him whether or not he acutally raped that girl!" he exclaimed excitedly and ran all the way up to the third floor and into the library. With confidence he picked out the correct book on the Dark Arts and rapidly searched for the spell they needed to do. After going through the book twice without finding it, he frowned and checked the cover. No, it was the right book, so why...?

"Harry, what are you doing? That's some seriously Dark magic, and you don't—"

"Yeah, right! I tore that page out all those years ago!" he expelled, slapping himself on the forehead. "I saved it for future use..."

Now the blonde looked seriously anxious. "Saved _what_ for future use?"

"A spell I'm sure you'll find interesting." And when Draco only gave him worried looks, he added: "How to Summon the Dead."

"How to summon..." His voice trailed off as he finally understood where Harry was going. "Tom... he knows if James did it or not..."

"Exactly!" Harry stated, and steered the blonde into their bedroom. It took him a while to find the torn out page, but when he did he pored over it and checked if they had everything they needed to summon their spirit of choice.

They set up a five-feet-in-diameter circle consisting of ten black candles on the floor of an unused room and conjured some lavender-scented incense. The room was dark except for the ghostly flickering of the candles. They sat facing each other in the middle of the circle, and between them Harry had put a small bowl in which a mixture of herbs had been measured up. Now they only needed to add two more things. One: something of the deceased that would automatically call him forth after saying the spell. After many hours of searching through the Manor they had finally found the wand that he had carried when he first came to them through the bathroom wall. Two: three fat drops of their own blood that would seal the spell.

They added the last "ingredients" and chanted the spell. Since the protective spells, enchantments, and shields they had put about inside and around the Manor were so complex and well-done, there were absolutely no risk of the Ministry detecting the use of Dark Arts within its walls. They were absolutely safe to perform their little seanse.

They uttered the long, complicated spell and waited.

A bluish-black spiral of thick, billowing smoke erupted from the bowl between them and slowly, lazily rose up towards the ceiling. It circled the room, stealthily, almost as if it possessed a dark conscience of its own. But then the smoke lifted and a tall, eerily glowing shape emerged from their depths. As it came closer, they recognised it as Tom Malfoy. He was transparent just like any other ghost, but he glowed oddly green as if the Killing Curse had permanently dyed him.

He blinked at them both in bewilderment as he spotted them on the floor. "Harry...? Draco...? Why are you...?" He fell silent and surveyed his surroundings with growing alarm. "Did you bring me back to the Manor? Why did you bring me back to the Manor?" he asked with great confusion.

Harry gestured to him to sit down next to them in the circle. To his surprise, Tom almost immediately did as told. "We've summoned you," he explained to their son, "to ask you a few questions about your past."

Tom raised both eyebrows in astonishment. "About my past? But you should know all about it now, shouldn't you? You've done your research, haven't you?" His eyes shifted between them rapidly.

Draco shrugged. He would not meet Tom's eyes, and Harry assumed it was because he was afraid of crying if he did. Instead he pretended to be really interested in the patterns on the marble floor.

Harry decided it was best if he handled the interrogation. "James is thirteen now," he told Tom in a warm, friendly tone, trying to convey to him that he need not be worried or alarmed. He saw the bafflement in his son's green eyes and quickly added, "Your Auntie Piper has invented her Infinity Potion – I take it you are familiar with it?"

Tom just stared at him for a while. Then he nodded. "Yeah, I'm familiar with it. Took it myself when I was twenty, didn't I?" His voice trailed off, and he played with his sleeve for a while. Nobody said anything. "So... am I... a happy kid? Or am I already... you know..."

Yeah, Harry thought he know where Tom was going. "I would like to think that you are happy," he said with honesty, "but you don't talk much to me. It's my own fault, I know, I've been working too much and spending too little time with my family – that's all going to change now. Before it's too late." He cast a glance at Draco. The blonde watched him with a dreadful scowl on his forehead. "You're unhealthily obsessed with the Dark Arts, though... Didn't think you'd take after your great uncle Snape, and certainly not _that_... but I guess it's all right as long as it's just an interest. Just so you know, I'm gonna kill you the day you start _using_ those spells!" he joked, trying to make the atmosphere a little lighter in the room.

Tom did not smile. "Well, that'll happen in about two years if he's doing everything I did in my past..."

"In two years?!" Draco exclaimed, and finally looked up at Tom. "What the Hell will happen in two years?"

Tom looked reluctant to say anything more. "I got tired of all the wrongs everyone did me... so I took up 'great uncle Snape's' hobby of creating my own Dark spells and jinxes... tried them on the creatures in the Forbidden Forest to make sure that the effects were the once I desired before I used them on the kids that were bullying me."

The blonde inhaled in an insulted gasp. "You did _what_?!"

"You should understand, Daddy. You were bullied quite badly yourself, weren't you? For dating Harry, I mean."

"Still no respect for me," Harry said resignedly and shook his head.

"What do you mean you were bullied?" Draco demanded. "Who the fuck bullied you? I'll kill them before you can curse them and get yourself into more trouble! And _why_ did they bully you? What did you do to them?"

A bitter grin curled Tom's lips. "Gee, you're always so nice to me, Daddy, always so supportive, and you always know just the right things to say, don't you?" he stated sarcastically.

"Yeah, you bloody write that on your forehead, you bloody insolent brat! Why have you never listened to us?! The Dark Arts are _bad_! That's what killed your grandparents – and I'm not talking about my crappy parents now – that's what killed hundreds of wizards and witches back in Vo-ho-ho, He Who Must Not Be Named's time, and _that's_ what's killing people now, in that bloody arsehole Pywercaseley's stupid name! Why don't you _ever_ listen to that?! You've seen what it can do! Hell, you bloody even saw Pywercaseley curse _Harry_ when you were little!"

Harry put a reassuring hand on the blonde's arm. "Draco, he was two, I don't think he remembers..."

"I don't give a bloody crap!"

"I know you don't, but just let him answer, alright?"

Draco crossed his arms defiantly over his chest and looked like a big baby, but at least he shut up.

"I did listen," Tom said, and surprised them both. "I listened every time, every day, every second that you two lectured me about it. But you were both using the Unforgivable Curses over and over while fighting the Death Eaters, so I thought if you could do them, then I could, too. And... I got really frustrated. All you ever did was telling me all these bizarre and scary tales about the Dark Arts to frighten me from using them, but you never congratulated me when I did something good."

"Now, that's not true..." Harry began.

"Yes, Harry, it is. You never congratulated _me_. All you ever said was, 'That would've made my father proud', and I've lost count of all the times you told me I 'wore his name well'. You never saw _me_, father, all you saw was a miniature James Potter growing up in front of you, and you always looked at me with that sick hope that one day I would actually turn into the father you never knew."

Harry blinked. "What? But I've never..."

"Oh, have you now?" Tom said in a most Snape-ish manner, but he also succeeded to bring in a little of the old know-it-all Percy in his voice. "Are you trying to tell me that you've never said 'You have to live up to your grandfather's name, James, you have to honour your namesake and ensure him that he can be proud of you'? Never, ever?" He snorted scornfully. "I don't believe you. You're a lousy liar, you are, and blind to your own foolish mistakes."

Harry did not know what to say. He did not want to hear it – did not want to admit to himself that it was true. But it was. Come to think of it... one of the last things Tom had said to him while he was still alive was those exact words. _"You never saw me – you only saw your father."_ He had chosen the name Tom for himself – they had not given it to him, had not even thought about giving it to him. And after everything that happened during those weeks – the murder on Hermione, the rise of the new Dark Lord, Tom's attempts at killing Harry, Draco ending up killing Tom instead – they had not wanted to name their baby Tom, because the name seemed jinxed. And what had he done? Harry had suggested the name James. Had not he all along seen his father in the face of his son? Had not he in fact hoped, on some deep sick level, that James would indeed grow up to be a perfect replica of the late James Potter, both physically and at heart?

"Oh, God, I'm twisted," he moaned, and buried his face in his hands.

Draco slowly stroked his back. "No, you're not," he whispered. "You're just a typical orphan, Harry. Just a typical orphan."

He did not want to hear that, either. But he let the blonde soothe him.

Ultimately, it was time to ask the question they had summoned him for. Ironically, Draco was the one to do it. "Tom... when you were thirteen... did you rape a girl named Helen Abbott?" he queried bluntly with a sharp glint in his silver eyes.

The ghost was startled. "What? But how could you...? I told him to erase those days for me..."

Harry frowned at his words. "What? You told someone to erase those days for you? Who?" The fact that the boy had actually asked someone to erase those particular days seemed ominous; it almost gave Harry a feeling that _their_ son had lied to them, that he had in fact done it. But that could not be it... could it?

Tom appeared to be considering his options. But then he sighed with resignation. "I told Bond to erase those days for me because I didn't want them to haunt me for the rest of my life," he confessed weakly. "Unfortunately he couldn't erase my memory as well... he downright refused to, and I couldn't ask anyone else to erase them for me since nobody else remembered those days. And I sort of saw it as my punishment... for everything that happened later..." His voice died away, and it almost looked as if he had tears in his eyes when he defiantly turned his face away from them.

Harry felt a deep need to console him and put a cautious hand on his arm before realising that he was a ghost. His hand went right through his son. For some reason it made him incredibly sad. "Tom... What happened to you?" he asked carefully with compassion in his voice.  
To their surprise, Tom laughed bitterly, a laughter that almost made him sound crazy. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you... But I can tell you this: I never raped that girl. I would never do something like that to another person."

Harry and Draco both exhaled in deep sighs of relief.

"The ironic thing is... _I _was the one who was raped," Tom said, and now there really was a tear in his eye.

For a few long seconds none of them spoke.

Then: "What?" Harry thought he must have got that wrong.

But Tom looked him deep into the eyes – eyes so much like his own – and nodded solemnly. "Yeah, ironic, isn't it?" he continued as if Harry had said 'Really?' instead of 'What?'. "Right before I left..."

"Left?" Draco echoed. "Are you talking about when you came to us...?"

"Yes," Tom confirmed. "I was one of Lord Pywercaseley's most devoted followers, as you've probably figured out, and... I'm sorry, it's too painful to talk about, I, er... I can show you instead, if you'd like."

They exchanged a knowing look. Draco had never been inside anyone's memory before, but Harry had more experience in it than he himself would have liked. Yet they could not refuse this generous offer. Tom was willing to expose himself and his most degrading, humiliating moment in life just so they could understand him better; they had to do it.

* * *

They plunged into a memory of what seemed to be a very dark day, and it felt extremely weird since they were actually going to see their own future... what might be if Timothy could not manage to change the past. They were standing in the hallway on the first floor of the Manor and everything was unnaturally quiet. Draco surveyed the hallway as if he had never seen it before, and then he knowingly tugged at Harry's arm.

Tom was standing just inside the front door, his back to the wall, rubbing his closed eyes with slow movements. A small dresser stood to the left of them – a dresser they had not yet bought, by the look of it, because neither of them recognised it. Harry walked up to it to have a closer look at the framed pictures that stood atop it. Naturally they were all moving pictures.

He picked one up. It showed their entire family, all of them smiling broadly. But somehow it did not seem genuine. Although ten-year-old-or-so Timothy waved happily at the camera and teenage James had his arm comradely around Joz's shoulders their merriment seemed faked. As if they were all trying to keep up appearances. Harry also noticed that Blaise was not in the picture. Did that mean that he was already dead by that time? Was that why their smiles looked so forced, so plastic?

"That was the last picture we ever took," someone said by his shoulder, and he jumped. Tom was standing only a foot from him, gazing down at the picture with sadness in his green eyes. "With the whole family, I mean. That was only two days before..." His words died away, and Harry thought he saw grief in the young man now.

Draco had eased forward and stooped down to pick up something from the floor. Until then, Harry had not even noticed that one of the framed photos had fallen to the floor and smashed. When the blonde straightened up he held a torn picture in his right hand. "This is me," he said with wonder. He turned to look at the others. "Why has this been torn apart? And where's the piece featuring Harry?"

Harry realised that it was the picture of them sitting under that three by the lake in the Hogwarts grounds. When they were fifteen and first fell in love. But now it sported only the roots and a small stump of the tree, which appeared to be bleeding, and a very puzzled Draco who seemed to be looking for something. Harry had been torn out of the picture along with most of the scenery. He frowned suspiciously. "You did this, James?" It was the first time he addressed Tom with his proper name, and it seemed to shock and unsettle him. But before he could reply, a call came from the parlour. "James! Would you come in here for a moment, please?"

The boy by the door jerked, and his features turned murderously cold and furious as he stalked up the hallway towards Harry's voice.

They followed in awe and curiosity.

Harry-of-the-future, still looking twenty or so, stood by the French windows of the much changed room and looked very grave. Troubled. Apparently he had not slept for days, because he sported deep, black rings under his eyes. "Why'd you do it?" he asked the younger Tom as he entered the room through the archway.

"This isn't what I wanted you to see, by the way," the ghost of Tom told them with a shrug of his shoulders. "I'happens in five minutes or so."

Harry surveyed the room. It did not look inhabited anymore. It looked... like a ruin. There was no sign of Piper's creative hand, and certainly no sign of any children having lived there for some time. What the fuck had happened to this place?

"W-what is this?"

Harry felt a pinge of fear at the sound of the blonde's weak whisper and could hardly force his body to turn around and see what his husband referred to. Then he saw it. Some sort of small wooden dresser stood against the wall, and on top of it hundreds of tiny candles in different colours were burning. The entire wall had been plastered with photos of Draco. Thousands of candles in different sizes and colours were standing around the dresser, taking up a fourth of the floor in the parlour, and they were all burning brightly. At a closer look, Harry saw that several small objects had been put on display on the little dresser. The locket necklace that Draco always wore around his neck. A torn-off Slytherin weapon, probably taken from his old school robes. A bottle of Draco's favourite herbal schampoo. The blonde's wedding ring. His old, tattered wand, now burnt and shrivelled. A lock of silver hair...

"_What_ the fuck is this?!" Draco demanded, horrified.

Harry swallowed hard. "I think I know what it is," he said reluctantly. "It's an altar, isn't it?"

And as he said that, he noticed something else about the altar. Above the small dresser was a meticulously carefully made banner, ink on the finest parchment you could find: _To my beloved Draco._ _You will be with me for ever._ _I am sorry._

A chill passed through him.

The blonde swirled around at him. "An altar?! What the hell do we need an altar for?!"

Harry could not meet his eyes when he answered. "You don't need any altar, obviously, but I do. You... you're dead. Isn't that right, James? Draco's dead, and this is my altar for you. Timothy told me Draco would die unless I got my act together and acknowledged that my family is more important to me than work. He told me that's what he intends to change. Draco's death."

Fear widened the blonde's eyes. They glowed eerily golden in the candlelight. "I'm... I'm... _dead_?" he whispered. "How could that've happened? You... you didn't look older than sixteen in that picture..." So he had understood that that's why they did not take any more pictures.

"I was fifteen," Tom told them.

"_Fifteen_?!" Draco echoed hysterically. "But you're _thirteen_ now! That means... I only have two more years to live!"

Harry violently grabbed his wrists and forced him to look at him. "Don't say that!" he warned. "Don't you _dare_ say that! You are _not_ dying, you hear?! You are _not_ dying on me! I won't let you! And Timothy won't let you. He and Jonas will do their best to protect you and prevent that from ever happening. Trust me, you will not die."

"But..."

"It's happening!" the ghost of Tom interrupted, and tugged at their sleeves. "C'mon, we need to go if we're to catch it! Quick, I'm running away!"

Indeed, the Tom in the memory had slammed the back door open and run out into the gardens, and he was moving fast! They had to give it everything they had just to keep up with him, but when they reached a glade in the forestline beyond the lake they did not have to run anymore. Tom had stopped to catch his breath, and he was not alone, either.

Pywercaseley was there with him.

"Well, well..." the Dark Lord was saying. "Are you prepared to make your sacrifice yet?"

Tom knelt by his master and bowed deeply. "I am at your service, my Lord, you know that. What is it that you need me to do?"

An ugly sneer distorted the ginger-haired man's features. "What no other man can do for me." He pointed his wand in the direction of the distant Manor. "Accio Priberty Potion." A few minutes later, a small bottle of potion had flown into his outstretched hand.

The boy on the ground had stiffened.

Harry had a real bad feeling about this. He looked up at the ghost of his son. "He's not going to... _is_ he?"

"Oh yeah."

Very reluctantly, they watched as Pywercaseley Stunned the boy, but somehow managed to prevent his head from becoming paralysed, and forced the potion into his mouth and down his throat. Tears of fear glistened in his eyes, and he kept saying "No, no, no, no..." when it dawned on him what the Dark Lord had in store for him. Pywercaseley ruthlessly forced open Tom's robes and forced himself on him. It was unbearable to watch any more; the boy's pained and frightened screams echoed over the open plains and travelled all the way out to the lake. He yelled for his master to stop, to spare him, to not humiliate him in that way, but he could do nothing to push the older man aside. All he could do was lie there helplessly, immobile, and bear it. His loud sobs tore Harry's heart apart.

Suddenly he understood the troubled, angry man that had come to them all those years ago. He had endured so many tragedies... being raised to be a replica of Harry's dead father, being accused of a brutal rape he did not commit, the death of the father he had so long adored and idolized... and then this. Harry slowly began to understand why Tom had been so full of wrath and resentment, but there was still a question to be answered. "Why did you want me to kill you?" he asked the ghost.

In reply, Tom lifted his transparent robes and exposed his belly. "I was pregnant," he said, and it was evident that it was painful for him to talk about it. "With _his_ child." There was immense hatred in his voice as he said that, and Harry could not blame him.

When he looked closer, he could see the small bump on the young man's belly. There had definitely been something growing inside of him when he died.

He let the robes fall into place again. "Now that you've seen this, it is time to return to your time."

Harry felt the pull in his stomach and the odd feeling of floating upwards through nothingness, and then they were back in the empty room on the second floor. The ghost had served its purpose – even more so than they both would have wished. But before he left them, he said, "I think it is better for both of you if you forget what you saw in this house in that memory. The memory of the rape you will need to go on with the investigation. You need an extra spark to inspire you. But the rest, I will help you forget."

Draco snorted with disbelief. "Ghosts can't do magic!" he objected with conviction.

A strange smile twitched in the corners of Tom's mouth. "No? Then you obviously don't know me that well, do you?"

* * *

"Potter!"

A distant call from the floor beneath them. They exchanged a quizzical look. That voice belonged to none of their friends. Who could it be calling on them at this hour?

"Nobody calls me Potter anymore..." Harry said with suspiciously knitted eyebrows.

They hurried downstairs.

There were half a dozen Death Eaters in their parlour. And one of them was holding his wand to a petrified Piper's throat. "One step closer and I kill her," he warned evilly.

"Really?" Draco asked almost hopefully.

Harry hit him on the arm. Then he addressed the Death Eaters. "What do you want?"

The one holding Piper laughed demonically. "We want you, Potter. Come with us or she's dead."

Harry hesitated.

Draco made a dismissive gesture. "Ah, what the heck! Kill her, why don't you? She's a bloody nuisance, anyway. Never wanted her here, I did, but did she listen? No! Instead she moved her entire _family_ in here as well! And do you know how many children has popped out of her uteris the past ten years?! Seven! _Seven!_ Yeah, kill her, that'll lessen the load for all of us."

"Draco!" Harry admonished, shocked.

The Death Eater only laughed harder. "Maybe you want me to kill _her_, but what about _your son_?" he asked with self-satisfaction.

The blonde flinched. "What?"

"Pywercaseley found little James lurking about the Dark Plane and took him for a little field trip," the big man informed them. "If you want the boy, Potter comes with us."

_(To be continued...)_

"Kodoku ni dakareta, boku o koroshite"

* * *

**_All right, we have now reached the last already finished chapter. :) So now it is only for me to finish the next one, hehe. ;P Although looking at what I have already written for the next chapter, and what I have left to write for it according to my synopsis, I'm suspecting that it'll turn into two chapters instead of just one, otherwise it would probably become too long... Hmm... we'll see._**

**_Thanks for all your support! See ya soon again!  
Love, Piper_**


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